My Immortal: A Tribute
by Petite Rogue
Summary: ...or 'What My Immortal Would Have Looked Like If I Was Tara Gillespie's Ghost Writer'. In which a now-familiar tale is rewritten, tweaked and poked to offer a coherent tale of the life and rise of Ebony Dementia. Love is not always healthy, but it will carry you further than you think.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer [that applies to whole story]: None of this belongs to me. The Harry Potter world belongs to one J.K. Rowling, and the characters and what little plot there might appear to be, belongs to Tara Gilespie, who has spawned an entire following with her My Immortal._

* * *

**Warnings:** This fiction contains a borderline/blatant Mary Sue and a generally patchy plot padded with a lot of angst and some dubious explanations to make sense of some things that just didn't make sense in the original. As with the original, there is a lot of swearing, there will be scenes where thingies are put in you-know-what's but described in a manner appropriate to the seventeen year old protagonist, seemingly random male/male relationships and bouts of torture, implied rape and scenes of self harm without steaks. Hence why the rating is an M.

But this is _slightly_ better written. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 1. **

Ebony woke up on her bathroom floor.

Steely blue eyes stared out onto the black and white tiled surface as she willed herself to move. She felt as if she had been repeatedly battered by a mountain troll, who had then proceeded to fill her mouth with bat dung and then used a Fiendfyre spell on her throat before filling her stomach with some sort of unknown slosh. She knew that these were supposed signs of a good night, but at that particular moment in time, she couldn't quite fathom how anyone could think this torture was "fun".

"Ebony Dementia, you open this door right this minute!" Especially not when there was the scary old lady that she called her grandmother banging on the door. "Ebony! _Ebony_!"

"I'm a little busy here!" Merlin, her throat hurt.

"Ebony!"

"_What_?"

Ebony was not surprised when her bathroom door blasted open, revealing a very angry Persephone Dementia on the other side, brandishing her wand in a manner that brought comparison to a mental house escapee, a contrast to the prim midnight blue robes she donned. Ebony had often questioned her grandmother's sanity, especially in instances such as these when her grey streaked chestnut hair found its way out its tight bun, framing a wizened face with crazed slate grey eyes that never promised any good - like a lion's mane on a serpent's face.

"I should have known," she began, pulling her granddaughter up with little grace or sympathy by the cuff of the black oversized Weird Sisters t-shirt she had worn the night before. Or earlier...what time was it? "Gallivanting around town with that muck you dare to call decent make up, coming home at all hours dressed like a common _whore_."

Ebony did not even bother arguing with her that the t-shirt was so large it almost reached her knees, and she was wearing tights so thick they might as well have been trousers. She was busy trying to wrench herself out of the madwoman's hold. "Grandmother, let go of me."

"I'll let go of you when I'm finished with you and not a moment sooner."

Though the woman was old, she had the strength that was not at all uncommon amongst the Pureblood matriarchs who had buried sons, daughters and husbands much too early. Ebony winced as she stumbled into the shower Persephone had just pushed her in, the pain in her ankle adding to the general dull throbbing engulfing her body. She inhaled sharply when a stream of cold water hit her head, shivering when she felt her clothes vanishing from her body. This was certainly one way to sober up.

"W-what...w-what are you doing?" Ebony asked as she watched her grandmother rummaging through the bathroom cupboard, not daring to move from her icy punishment. Her wand was not in reach whereas Persephone's was.

"Ridding you of your impurity."

Ebony cried out in pain as the water turned scalding, but Persephone was on a mission, pushing her granddaughter back as she attempted to escape the burning droplets showering upon her person and brandishing the stiff bristled brush, the kind that she had once scrubbed the halls of Hogwarts with as a teen. Now she would scrub Ebony clean.

"Argh! Grandmother, you're hurting me!" Ebony tried to move away, but her grandmother held her in place, the bristles, though they were soaping under the spray of the water, scraping at her skin. "Please, stop!"

"And let you leave this house reeking of debauchery? You are a Dementia – we are Purebloods, emphasis on the _pure_." She grabbed Ebony's arm, scrubbing at the teenage doodles of __ loves Ebony_ that would have easily disappeared with a simple _Scourgify_, but this was more satisfying. Perhaps then her granddaughter would finally heed her words. Maybe for once, Ebony would learn her lesson.

"You take after the scum that sired you, no doubt. A Mudblood or a blood-traitor at best. You were lucky your father did not have you sent away, taking you as one of his own. And this-" Ebony gasped as she dragged the brush sharply over her painted nails as if wanting to remove the black nail polish by sheer force. "-is how you repay his kindness."

"I didn't-" Ebony was cut off as Persephone abruptly grabbed her other arm, satisfied with her bleeding fingertips. She grit her teeth, swallowing all the hatred she held for the woman who had raised her for the past ten years, if raised was the right word. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"Your breath reeks of Firewhiskey, of course you've done something wrong. Don't think I don't hear about these parties, wayward Pureblood children too busy getting drunk to realise there is a war brewing and that they have duties to fulfil. I hear of the depravity that occurs at those gatherings. I tell them that I have raised you better, that you have already been through your phase and yet here you _are_."

"Stop it! You're _hurting_ me!" Ebony could no longer tell whether she was crying from the pain, from the harsh words directed at her, because the make up running down her face was stinging her eyes or all of the above. She just wanted it to end.

"I'm hurting you, am I?" Persephone taunted, pulling Ebony's raven locks so she was close to her. "And tell me, dear, what is the difference between this and that sick habit of yours?" Ebony tried to look away as her grandmother lifted one of her arms, where even the red blotches could not hide the intersecting red and white lines, some newer, deeper, longer, than others. "Tell me!"

"Just leave me alone!"

"Not until I'm done." She let go of Ebony's arm and continued to scrub. "Not until I am done."

* * *

"Ebony, you are going to be late!"

"I'm almost finished!"

Rolling her eyes, Ebony continued brushing out her hair, contemplating her grandmother's face if she chopped off her waist length black locks and appeared at her graduation with short, cropped hair. Sure, magic could grow it back but magic-grown hair never had the same lustre as natural hair, especially not after one of Persephone's purification attacks. Rinse, lather, repeat was on another level when her grandmother was adamant that she was not clean enough. Besides, even if her grandmother promised to have a heart attack if she cut her hair, Ebony never would. It was the one thing she had inherited from her father – her biological father.

"At least you don't look like a lobster anymore," her reflection offered as Ebony sighed at a persistent red patch on her neck and the decidedly ruddy glow that had settled on her usually translucent skin. "_And_ you can't be mistaken for a filthy blood sucker."

"I'm not going to miss you," Ebony replied, pulling her hair into an acceptable bun and straightening the spring green robes with royal blue lining her grandmother had picked out for her. She hated robes – they did not flatter her slim physique, always in need of something more fitted or perhaps covering up a little less, but perhaps that was why her grandmother insisted she wore them. Who would want to engage in depravity with her when she looked like she was wearing a potato sack? At least the loose material let her skin breathe.

"_Ebony_!"

"Coming!" Ebony shouted back, wishing her grandmother would just fuck off back to her own Wing and die of old age, well away from her. For a woman who said shouting was uncouth behaviour, she sure did a lot of yelling.

Shrinking her trunk and making sure she was in possession of her wand and money bag, Ebony waved an unnecessary goodbye to the bedroom that was hers during the summer months, wishing that this time next year she would be out of her grandmother's bony grasp. Too bad the only way to do so was turn twenty-one when she would come into half her inheritance, a birthday still three years away, join the grovelling ranks of the Dark Lord and/or marry into a loveless marriage or kill her, because Ebony had her suspicions Persephone was the kind of witch who lived well into her hundreds. Forcing herself to kiss the woman she hated goodbye, making false promises to write regularly, Ebony hoped someone would take pity on humanity and wipe her from the face of the Earth.

The woman was bloody crazy.

* * *

After the deafening silence of the Manor punctuated only by her grandmother's screams, Platform 9 ¾ was another world. Moving quickly out of the Apparition Perimeters to avoid collisions, Ebony looked through the crowds of students, both new and returning, and their families there to wish them a good year, searching for a familiar face. Members of her House were creatures of habit, and so Ebony wasn't surprised to find that her fellow seventh year Slytherins were gathered near the carriages towards the end, but never right at the end. It would never do to seem too suspicious by being the furthest away from the Prefect carriages. If she hadn't known them for the past decade, it would still astound her how different her classmates were in public and how they were in private. A smile flitted across Ebony's face as flashes of the night before came back to her.

Before she had decided that she was going to Apparate home, splinching be damned, Blaise Zabini had been holding back Pansy Parkinson's hair as she used one of the expensive vases littered around the Nott family manor to empty the contents of her stomach, and Blaise was _never_ one to be seen coming to anybody's aid nor was Pansy the kind to admit that she could not hold her Firewhiskey. Theodore Nott and Tracey Davis who were now acting as indifferently to each other as they always did, as if they had not disappeared somewhere after an interesting game of _Veritas Vel Ausus_, and it did not take Hermione Granger to figure out where they could have possibly have gone. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, now back to being seen and not heard, had been loudly reciting Shakespeare, laughing at how Muggles could even think that they could produce such a literary genius, arguing that he must have been a Squib. And Draco-

"Hi."

Draco had followed her out to the Apparition point on the Nott Estate, at first reasoning that she could not possibly Apparate in her state, that he would fly her home even though he was pretty trolled himself, but then they had spoken of other things as people were inclined to do with alcohol in their blood and stared at the stars out in the sky. What she remembered clearly was that the silver eyes that had looked at her then had not been cold and controlled, they had shone with drunken abandon and the warmth of being with a friend.

"Hi," Ebony replied. Unable to maintain eye contact with the intense Malfoy gaze, she nodded or smiled a small greeting to the group of acquaintances. Theo, Draco and Millicent were the only ones who sometimes swung towards being actual friends. Speaking of Millicent- "Where's Millie?"

"On the train, retching up her breakfast," Pansy answered, almost gleeful of the other girl's misery. "I'm surprised _you're_ still in one piece. Most of us were betting on you getting splinched."

"I didn't pass the Apparition Exam with flying colours by accident."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "The state you were in?"

"Ladies, we'll be here all day if we start comparing the right states you were all in last night," Draco interrupted, his lazy drawl indicating he was bored, before Ebony could even start to defend her levels of sobriety. "I suggest we all get on the train. I can smell Weasley with a hint of Potter."

The group filed in, spreading out in the usual two compartments that they usually occupied. Ebony was the second to last to climb onto the train, Draco insisting that ladies were first, innocently placing a hand on her back as a gentleman-like gesture of aid. He retracted his hand as sharply as the wince Ebony let out at the action. Persephone was also not one for healing her handiwork.

Draco frowned. "Ebony..."

"_What_?" It came out sharper than intended, and she wished to swallow back the words as his face hardened in response.

"Nothing."

Without so much as another glance, he gracefully slipped into to the compartment housing Pansy, knowing full well that she would never sit there. Ebony would rather spend another month with her grandmother. With a sigh, she decided instead to walk down the length of the train hoping to catch sight of her best friend, who had had the audacity not to be Sorted into Slytherin.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **__I usually place my Author Notes at the bottom so not to interrupt the flow too much, but seeing as this is a tribute, they should probably be placed all over the place. But that requires a certain amount of skill that I don't have or particularly desire. But keeping true to style, this is a pretty pointless A/N. _

_Fangs for reading, reviews are always appreciated and enjoy!_

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**Chapter 2**

Ebony woke up the next morning having slept well.

Not even Millicent's soft snores could punctuate a hangover tinted slumber mixed in with the usual start-of-term satiation of the Welcoming Feast. Poor Millicent had barely made it through the Sorting Ceremony, walking out as soon as Dumbledore had dismissed them to run to the nearest loo. For a well built girl, she was terrible when it came to hangovers. Grabbing a towel, Ebony made her way to their shared bathroom for a shower, thankful for the cooling stream of the lukewarm water on her still sore body. At least she was now somewhere her grandmother couldn't get to her, be it with her constant disappointment, her words or a scrubbing brush. Though there had been rumours the Dark Lord was planning something involving Hogwarts, Ebony decided she was safe. What could the Dark Lord possibly want with her?

Dressed in school uniform, hair pulled in its customary bun, bag packed, and Millicent woken up as per the roommate agreement to never let the other sleep late on a school day, Ebony made her way down to breakfast. It was still relatively early, and the only seventh year Slytherin in the Great Hall was Theo, his head already buried in a book, only the tops of his blonde hair visible, though from the looks of the dragon hide covering, it was not a tome on the curriculum.

"Morning Raven," he said as she sat down opposite him, not bothering to look up.

"Why do you call me that? My name is Ebony."

"You look like a Raven."

"You look like an Alan," Ebony retorted with the most common name she could think of. He looked over the book and pulled a look of mock hurt.

"I gift you with Raven and you give me Alan? You wound me dear madam."

"And you sir, should just call me by my name."

"Sure thing Raven."

He laughed that easy laugh Slytherins often had when there weren't people around who would judge or use the knowledge to their advantage as the toast Ebony had flicked in his direction landed in the tea of the fifth year sat two seats down from him. Theo wasn't sure whether it was the withering look she gave Ebony or Ebony's attempt at not laughing that set him off. What he did know was that it was a good way to start the year. Their laughter came to an abrupt end as the rest of the seventh years glided in, looking as if they ruled the school, and took seats at the table.

"Please, don't stop on our account," Draco said, giving the pair an odd inquisitive look. But Theo had already gone back to his book and Ebony could feel her cheeks burning as his gaze rested on hers. "What's so funny?"

"It's nothing," Ebony said. "Just Theo and I getting our daily dose of laughter. It's said to increase life expectancy you know."

"Well then we wouldn't want you laughing too much, would we?" Pansy said, giving Ebony a cold smile, her sharp charcoal eyes daring her to rise to the bait.

Ebony had never understood why the blonde suddenly stopped speaking to her in fifth year and instead spent her time finding opportune moments to make digs at her. Someone had once dubbed them the Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger of their House, which was bleeding ridiculous of course, seeing as their petty arguments would never in a million years turn out to be sexual tension.

"Do us all a favour and go die in a hole somewhere Parkinson," Ebony snapped back, pulling out her Ancient Runes textbook, selectively tuning out whatever Pansy had to say to her. There were more important things to think about, like the toast she was munching on. And Draco, of course.

Draco Malfoy, ever the peacemaker telling Pansy to give humanity a break from her voice, ever the supposed Slytherin Prince, with his cool mannerism and his handsome looks. But things that morning were slightly different. Every now and then Ebony would look up from the Rune work to ask Theo a question, or reach to pour herself some more juice, and find Draco looking at her as if she was an object of deep fascination, but the moment they made eye contact he would find someone to strike up inane conversation and her eyes would snap back to the symbols dancing before her eyes, question forgotten and her need for orange-y goodness the last thing on her mind.

Something had changed between them, and Ebony wasn't quite sure what.

* * *

"So what's the deal with you and Malfoy?" Willow asked, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.

It was a week into the school routine, and they were exiting the library after another painful study session. Ebony was looking forward to Sunday, the only free day set aside in Willow's thorough study plan which worked well with the teachers' apparent desire to work the seventh years into an early grave. Willow Arcane was Ebony's best friend in the entire world, had been since the age of seven when they had wound up sat next to one another in the same Wizard's Prep School. But some days, Ebony also considered her a slave driver – the look that appeared in Willow's amber eyes when given a schedule to construct and enforce was comparatively murderous.

What they really needed was some fresh air but the weather had turned neurotic – after bouts of rain and bouts of snow it had settled on sleeting. Never mind the fact it was September.

Ebony had the decency to look confused. "I don't know what you mean?"

"What do you take me for? Not only am I your best friend, I'd have to be blind not to notice the way you've been looking at each other, or the way you blush when he's near you."

"I do not blush!" Ebony exclaimed. "It's just the after effects of sunburn."

"Oh please, I've seen you burnt and there's usually a lot of peeling involved." Willow shook her head. "No, this is definitely something to do with hormones and pheromones and crushes, and all that jazz. You've not looked anywhere near your pale vampire self since you came back. You've looked almost...rosy?"

"You've hit your head," Ebony said, looking at her friend weirdly. "You've hit your head and you are concussed. Me? Rosy?"

It had become a running joke that Ebony's birth father must have been a vampire due to the usually pallid, almost translucent glow, of her skin. First years could usually be convinced that she really was a vampire that would swoop into your room at night and suck your blood, especially every Hallowe'en thus far she had taken it upon herself to charm her incisors into fangs, let her hair down in two dark sheets framing a pale face and drink dyed Pumpkin Juice. It had taken some until third year to realise it was an elaborate hoax and declare her a weirdo.

Willow pouted. "So, you're saying there's no juicy gossip?"

"If there's anything to gossip about, don't worry, you'll be the first to find out."

* * *

Sunday morning Ebony was dragged from her lie-in by the tap of a bird on the window. Untangling herself from the forest green sheets of her four poster bed, she seriously hoped the owl was for her. Even now, she still couldn't understand the magic Hogwarts used to make owls appear at a window that was only charmed to look and feel like the outside – was the owl a charm as well?

_Meet me in my dorm room in ten. D._

Ebony stifled a yawn as she changed from her night shirt into a slouchy sweatshirt and leggings, envying Millicent's sleeping form, a foot splayed out of the four poster hangings. After what felt like ten minutes, she padded along to the boys corridor, looking for the silver plaque that indicated where Draco was bunking this year. She was surprised to see that this year he had his own room – yes, it had been an option since fifth year, but he had always bunked with Blaise and Theo, just like Pansy, Daphne and Tracey had shared a room since second year, all together until Daphne decided her prospects lay in France.

Ebony knocked softly on the door. "Come in."

Draco was lounged on his bed, lazily flicking through a copy of the _Sunday Prophet_. A single room was vastly different from the communal bedrooms of first year with the five posters in one room, fighting over the one armchair and two desks between five girls, or even the shared dormitories. This room had no four poster bed, only a large king size bed with plush coverings in the Slytherin colours, a large mahogany desk by the large, presumably charmed window, and a roaring fire faced by two plush armchairs. It looked like what Ebony had always imagined their Head of House's private rooms to look like. She supposed that there was nothing but the best for the Malfoy progeny.

"You called?"

"I thought we were overdue a chat," he answered, continuing the languid turns of the page. Ebony was about to roll her eyes at his actions – he was basically ignoring her – when grey eyes suddenly looked up to catch her own. "I've barely spoken to you this week. Or rather, _you've_ barely spoken to me."

She felt that tell-tale rush of warmth creeping up her face, and she struggled to block out Willow's teasing from her mind. "I've been busy. Studying."

"It's a shame you never seem to study within the vicinity of any Slytherin. Though I suppose that might be why your grades are so high. No time for idle chitchat."

"You mean no time for Parkinson," Ebony muttered. He raised a well groomed eyebrow. "What? That witch is a total bitch who spreads malicious rumours about anyone and anything that walks past her, and even those who don't, and you know it Malfoy."

"Oh my Dementia, is that bitterness I detect?" he teased. "Parkinson is quite tolerable if you completely ignore her personality and her general being. I've had the pleasure of knowing her my entire life."

"What fun you two must have had." She stood awkwardly for a moment, arms crossed and brow furrowed at memories of the rumours Pansy had kindly propagated, some involving Ebony and Montague in a broom closet, others about creature blood, possible half-blood, her supposed crush on the younger Montague currently in fourth year, the one about her third breast growing from her back, and many others, before Draco realised that she was well...standing.

"Where are my manners? Please, take a seat, anywhere. Make yourself at home, and I'll have an elf bring up some tea."

"Well, you've got a nice looking bed there, Malfoy... Mind if I Slytherin?" He looked at her for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing, gesturing his acquiescence, momentarily unable to speak.

Joining him on his bed, conversation flowed easily, if not a little slowly at first, but soon they were laughing, sometimes at anecdotes and other times at the vapid articles in the Prophet. This was the first time that Draco had sought out her company in this manner during the school term; in her mind, Ebony had classed him as a summertime friend, for that was when he could call by the Manor for tea, citing a need to get away from the regular Ministry intrusions, or they ended up outside at parties, tucked away in some corner and discussing the meaning of life. Or what the hell those little crawling hors d'oeuvres were about. It was then that Ebony got to see the side of him she had soon realised very few people got to see.

Whilst looking for the next article to ridicule, Draco spotted an advert of particular interest.

"Ebony, guess what?"

"What?"

"The Goblin Charlatans are playing in Hogsmeade next weekend."

"No way!" Ebony exclaimed, leaning over him to get a better look at it, to make sure that he wasn't perhaps imagining it. He wasn't – her favourite band, and decidedly one of the few decent music acts in the Wizarding World - was coming to Hogsmeade. Sighing, she rolled onto her back. "It's a shame it's not a Hogsmeade weekend."

Draco's face came into her line of view, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We're of Age, aren't we? We could always just _give_ ourselves permission to go."

"Mr Malfoy, you couldn't _possibly_ be considering flouting the rules."

"Only if you join me, my dearest Ebony." He brushed a stray strand out of her face, his hand lingering a little longer than could be dismissed as nothing. "We'll make it our dirty little secret."


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: **This chapter deals with you-know-what's being put in you-know-where's in a very serious and angst-y manner. Just in case you ignored the warning. And unfortunately, due to failing his driving exam for like the fifth time, Draco doesn't have a car. And yes, this is a very semi-serious tribute-Fanfiction. Think of it as Glee covering Justin Bieber._

* * *

**Chapter 3.**

Whereas the previous week had passed in a blur of speeches about their upcoming exams (Professor Snape was especially fond of regular reminders that they were all bound to fail and the sole reason for this lay in their own lack of intelligence) and Willow-led homework slash highly premature revision sessions, the week leading up to the Goblin Charlatans concert dragged. Ebony could barely concentrate on the steadily mounting work, almost losing her finger to Carnivorous Mountain FlubberWeeds and losing points from McGonagall for daydreaming; Willow was unrelenting about her suspicions of something going on with the younger Malfoy, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively at the simplest of interactions; and Ebony had to listen to people discussing the concert, containing the irrational need to jump up and announce that she was going. Saturday night couldn't come soon enough.

Getting dressed was a question of balance.

With Millicent in the room and likely to either stop Ebony or demand some sort of payment for keeping her excursion a secret, Ebony had resorted to charming the curtains of her four poster shut, placing a Silencing Charm around the bed and struggling to get dressed on the soft surface. Her grandmother would have a fit if she saw the grace with which she donned grey skinny jeans that had seen her through the summer and a deep red t-shirt emblazoned with Lorcan d'Eath's face, charmed to every so often wink or smile seductively. She put aside a black leather jacket to wear to and from the concert in the current nippy weather before sitting down to decide on her make up – red lips or black eyeliner?

At half ten she was ready, and as previously arranged, Ebony Disillusioned herself and met Draco at the top of the stairs, safe in the knowledge that so few people ever attempted breaking curfew so close after curfew. Prefects often waited until at least eleven to hunt out troublemakers. She almost missed him in his Disillusioned form – she had to really focus to make out a black clad Draco, the dark colours contrasting with his platinum locks.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

She smiled. "I was born ready."

Her heart skipped a beat as she felt Draco grab her hand, leading the way out of the Common Room, past a fifth year Ravenclaw Prefect and across the grounds. His hand felt...right, the warmth and feel, the protective way he steadied her as they rushed, never breaking contact. Ebony felt wanted.

"The Forbidden Forest?" Ebony hissed as they entered the thick forest that Dumbledore had warned them against entering for the past seven years of her life, and until now, a warning she had heeded.

"There's a hole in the wards," Draco replied as they ran through the Forest but always parallel the wall that surrounded Hogwarts and the forest, his eyes looking for the mark that he had been told he would find there. He stopped abruptly. Ebony crashed into him, almost sending them both to the ground. He enlarged his Nimbus 2001 and offered a hand. Though she wasn't fond of flying, she climbed on behind him, keeping her thoughts focused on the reason why she was flouting the school rules.

"Hold tight Ebony."

Clenching her eyes tightly as they set off, she really couldn't see why anyone found flying _fun_.

* * *

One thrilling broom ride later, they arrived at the white tent set up for the event, crowds of people dressed in varying degrees of oddity and normality, some dressed in the Robin-hood-esque colours associated with the Goblin Charlatans, a group of four wizards who liked nothing more than controversy, inspiring rebellious factions of the population. Aurors and security guards (ironically, many actual goblins) were stationed both outside and the inside which, holding to wizarding tradition, was several times larger than it appeared on the outside. Ebony looked around in awe, from the long line of stands selling everything from merchandise to Ministry-regulated portkeys to Goblin Charlatan inspired cocktails that were a dubious range of green.

"Look, Draco! Isn't that that clumsy Gryffindor boy you love so much? Longbottom?" Ebony said as they moved into the main performance area, a drink of Butterbeer in hand.

"Mm-hm," Draco acquiesced, spotting Neville Longbottom in the direction that Ebony was pointing. "You didn't honestly think that we'd be the only students who'd have the idea to sneak out to one of the biggest concerts of the year all because it's not a Hogsmeade weekend?" Her blush answered for her. "You did, didn't you? And to think I thought you'd be one of the few in our circle who has ventured out of their bubble of sheltered, comfortable existence."

She glared at him. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"And I'm very glad of that fact." His smile sent tingles down her spine, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with hers as he took her hand electric. "Come on, let's see who we can bribe to get a good space. And I say, Longbottom seems to have come with that loony Ravenclaw sixth year. And she's barefoot!"

By the time the support act had come and gone, getting the crowd ready and riled up, Draco and Ebony had worked their way through three Butterbeers, two Goblin Mayhems and a Chaotic Charlatan, the last two with enough alcoholic content to have had the duo shed their jackets, roll up their sleeves, sway to the music, cheer loudly and chant alongside the crowd when they began to demand for the main act to come out, all sense of decorum beaten into them throughout their childhood long forgotten. Ebony had stopped blushing every time the crowds pushed them together, settling instead on a constant flush from being in close proximity to Draco mixed with the excitement of seeing the Goblin Charlatans live and quite possibly the alcohol.

"Here, take this," Draco said quickly as the first chords of "Galleon Decimation" started playing, heralding the band's incoming entrance, pressing something into Ebony's hand.

"What?" Ebony looked down at the small vial he had handed to her. It was a pale liquid of sorts, white she would have said had there not appeared to be white smoke-like tendrils inside the vial, whichever way she turned it. "What is this?"

"Just take it."

"Draco, we're already breaking so many rules and-"

As the crowd surged forward, he placed his hands around her waist, steadying her whilst pulling her closer. His breath tickled her neck. "And don't you trust me?"

The liquid hit the bottom of her stomach like a dead weight as the band appeared onstage, the vial in her hand crushed underfoot by the excited crowd. She didn't know what she had taken, but she didn't stop to think. Not when she could clearly see the band, distinguishing that each of their grass green outfits differed – the leader singer was wearing a suit that would not have been out of place at wizarding wedding, the lute player elegant robes with ivy snaking around his person, the pianist a leather goblin made tunic and the drummer a simple pair of jeans and ripped tshirt – _and_ they were playing one of her favourite songs.

Soon, colours begun to blur and she swayed and jumped to sounds that seemed to be coming from a heavenly place. Ebony could not stop smiling, grinning like a Cheshire Kneazle, turning to tell Draco that she was on a cloud, asking if she was there with him, hugging him tightly when he said he was, before turning to sing along to another song. Sometimes she would stop to stare at him in wonder, momentarily more entranced by her companion than by the band. How could she not when he looked so...peaceful? No, that wasn't quite the right word.

_What you gonna do with a Pureblood traitor,  
with a pureblood traitor like me?  
You can dress me up, cloak me up in your pretences,  
but a pureblood traitor I'll always be  
All because I have a heart, all because I dared to love,  
all because I dared to stand up fight for what's right,  
for what I want and not for what's always been.  
I'm a Pureblood traitor and proud!_

Did Draco Malfoy _identify_ with their songs?

Ebony did not have enough brain power to think it through further, not when the world spun faster and her cloud of loveliness grew larger. She was aware that things were happening but could not quite grasp the edge of reality. She barely registered the concert drawing to end and being dragged by Draco backstage to meet the band, a very chilled out bunch who offered them more green-coloured beverages that sent the world spinning further out her control. She did, however, register Draco's anger when he dragged her away after only one drink, his grip painful on her wrists.

"What's the matter?" Ebony asked when they came to an abrupt stop at the nearest bar, which despite the concert being over was still packed with people looking to continue their good time.

"Do you like him?" Draco demanded. She looked back at him blankly. The fuck was he on about? "Do you think he's better looking than me?"

"Who?"

"Madden – the lute player. You were flirting with him like mad."

She couldn't help but laugh. "All I did was compliment him on his robes. He's good looking, but he's all beard and unruly curls – definitely not my type."

"So what is your type?"

Ebony was certain Draco, and everyone within a mile radius, could hear her heart beating in her chest as he stared down at her, patiently waiting for her answer, an answer that her brain did not want to divulge but could not think of a smooth way to answer otherwise. When had tall, mysterious platinum blondes been her type? She was saved by the bartender.

"Four Firewhiskey shots please," Draco asked, despite Ebony's protests that she could drink no more. "And maybe a glass of water."

A world that had temporarily been slowed by Draco's jealous outburst span completely out of control when Ebony had breathed out the last of the whiskey smoke. The only thing that seemed to stay constant or make much sense in this new world was Draco, who steadied her when she stumbled or leant against her when, for a moment, he was convinced his legs could no longer walk. They were shushed by an Auror as they stumbled across Hogsmeade, singing slurred versions of the songs they had just heard, ears ringing, heads spinning and hands clammy from refusing to let go each other.

How they managed to fly to Hogwarts in this condition was anyone's guess. How they ended up crashing in a heap on the ground in a clearing did not take much figuring out. After several failed attempts to get up, the pair decided that lying on the ground somewhere in the Forbidden Forest gazing up at the stars was a better idea.

"Ebony?"

"Yes Draco?"

"You never told me what your type was."

"Because I don't want to tell you."

"Why?"

Sighing, Ebony turned to look at Draco, his silhouette perfection in the moonlight. "Because it's you."

"What's so bad about that?"

"Nothing I suppose."

"Good."

First Ebony felt his hand in hers and then, and then they were kissing. Softly, tentatively at first, then the kisses deepened and they were both searching for something they hoped to find on their exploration of each other's mouths. Her world was slowing down, but she felt new and exciting feelings stirring within as his hands touched her in ways that another person had never touched her before. Ebony registered their jackets being laid under them, before cold hands eased her out of her top, her unclasped bra joining the small pile of her clothes Draco seemed determined to create.

Ebony did not care, all she wanted was Draco close to her, and his touch was electric, just like everything else that night. His body was like that of an angel; Ebony found herself wishing she had more than just the moonlight to see the toned body before her, to trace a hand over every inch of that muscled body. It was only when he pulled away her jeans and his fingers found their target that she gasped through the haze, trying to sit up despite her body's refusal to do anything she commanded. The only muscles she seemed to have control of was her mouth.

"Draco..."

"Shhh..." he said softly, brushing her lips with his own, slowly easing her back down as he trailed rough kisses along her jaw, down her neck, unbuttoning his own jeans as his teeth on her skin caused her to wince.

"Draco, I don't think..."

She fought against the haze, the haze of whatever she had taken, the haze of the knots of pleasure building as Draco continued his ministrations, but it was a losing battle. Nothing made sense and there was a steely determination behind his eyes as Ebony felt him shift on top of her, his legs parting her own.

"Draco, we shouldn't," Ebony tried again, though she wasn't sure if she was saying it or if it was a thought in her head. She tried again. "Draco, I'm a-" He covered her mouth with his, silencing her with a kiss as he readied himself.

"Draco, I'm a-" Ebony drew a sharp breath as he entered her. "...a virgin."

But Draco didn't seem to hear her, her words formless caresses on his ears; he didn't seem to see the tears that slid down her cheeks, even when he tasted their saltiness on his lips; nor did he see the pain in the pale eyes that shed them. He didn't seem to notice that, later, when he curled up close to her, she stiffened and did not hold him back.

Draco Malfoy didn't notice anything he didn't want to notice.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N**: And now, we have the morning-after. And you know what hangovers bring – more angst! And Dumbledore. But mostly angst. And if you ever find yourself wondering "Is this actually serious?" then that was my intention, because you know that's the feeling you felt when you trudged through My Immortal for no inexplicable reason._

* * *

**Chapter 4**.

Ebony woke up wondering where the fuck she was.

"Ebony. Ebony, come on. We have to get up."

It took her awhile to realise that someone was shaking her and that the pain in her back was in fact most probably a twig because from the pokey feel of it. From the snippets of memories flooding back to her like the sunlight blinding her, she then deduced she was in the Forbidden Forest. And that irritating distant voice could be that of no other than Draco Malfoy. _Draco_... Ebony rolled over and puked.

"That's-" Draco felt the bile threatening to come up and stumbled away, his brain struggling to decide whether to clutch his throbbing head, clutch his churning stomach or put a hand over his mouth to stop the projectile vomit. Or attempt all three.

Sobering up or the comedown or whatever the pain of pure death Draco and Ebony felt as they stumbled back to the castle was definitely not fun. That was combined with the aches and pains that came with falling asleep for any period of time on rough ground and the crash that had sent them there in the first place. It was a miracle that they had survived in the Forbidden Forest that long. Who knows what creature could have gotten to them first? Or what if it had started snowing and they had frozen to death?

Draco was too busy trying not to vomit to think about anything besides getting to a bathroom. They'd spent fifteen minutes trying to remember what spell they were supposed to use to get the vomit out Ebony's hair, ten of those arguing with her to just let him use a water spell and pat it out, but she wouldn't let him touch her, snarling that it was a stupid idea. Were he not a man, and a man made of stronger stuff at that, Draco would have already found somewhere to curl up and cry until he was no longer in pain. Or at least complained several times about he wanted to just die already. But he had no one else but to blame but himself – no wonder the government had made it a Class Azkaban drug...

"A little hung over Mister Malfoy?"

Draco whirled round at the unexpected voice.

They had reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, but with it being only a little past dawn and under the Disillusionment Spell, Draco had not expected anyone to notice them. Then again, if anyone was going to notice them, it would be Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If he could defeat Grindewald, catching a pair of rule breaking students was a walk in the park.

"Headmaster," Draco said, involuntarily clutching his head at the pain from the sudden movement. "What are you doing here?"

"I should think, Mr Malfoy, that as a member of staff I would have more reason to be walking near the Forbidden Forest than yourself or Miss Dementia," he replied, his all-knowing smile a little tighter than usual. He was dressed in blue and white striped robes reminiscent of pyjamas. "Perhaps the pair of you would like to explain what you are doing out here?"

Draco looked to Ebony but she seemed to be more interested in her shoes than worming their way out of potential suspension. His brain was still refusing to cooperate. _Think, Draco, think!_ "Err..."

"As I thought. Miss Dementia, do you have any further explanation?"

Ebony stared at him as if woken from a reverie. "Huh? What he said."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed as he looked at the girl standing before him: her black hair was a bush (twigs and leaves included) framing a pallid green tinted face; her clothes were covered in dirt and the hands that were hugging her body were covered in fine scratches, testimony to their night out. But there was more than met the eye - his Headmaster senses were tingling, and his Headmaster senses were never wrong. Except that one time.

He turned on his heel and made his way to the castle, beckoning the wayward seventh years to follow him. The fresh morning air would do them some good and give Ebony time to put her thoughts together.

* * *

"I found Miss Dementia and Mr Malfoy here near the Forbidden Forest," Dumbledore announced as he entered the first floor classroom. He threw a smirk in the direction of his Potions Master. "And to think you thought your House was exempt Severus?"

Ebony and Draco were glad to find that they weren't the only ones in the classroom presided over by the most intimidating teachers Hogwarts had to offer. Even if they turned out to be the only ones from Slytherin. Professor Minerva McGonagall and Professor Severus Snape, Heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively, were stood at the front of the classroom glowering a the students ranging from fifth to seventh year, all dressed in a selection of band related clothing. Even if Ebony and Draco hadn't spotted Neville, who was sitting with his head in hands, and Luna Lovegood, who did not seem to have a care in the world, the night before, it wouldn't have taken them long to figure out why they were all there. They'd all been caught.

"Perhaps," Snape began as soon as Dumbledore had left, his dark eyes scanning the room, irritated that he had been dragged out of bed for this, irritated that he had to be there at all. "Perhaps one of you mediocre dunces might be able to present a convincing argument as to why you were all caught sneaking back to the castle the morning after a Goblin Charlatan's concert in Hogsmeade?"

A very stupid Hufflepuff sixth year dared to answer. "Coincidence, sir?"

It was McGonagall who let him have it. "How _dare_ you be so flippant about blatant disregard for school rules and your own safety? How dare you, not only leave the Castle in the first place, but judging by the state of the majority of you, then go out and get completely inebriated? Anything could have happened. We have had complaints, not only from Hogsmeade residents, but from _Aurors_!"

"It is a wonder some of you weren't arrested," Snape continued. "Or considering the methods some of you used to get in and out of the castle in the first place, it is a wonder you weren't severely injured."

"Stealing a confiscated flying car? Going through the Forbidden Forest so close to the full moon? Breaking through blocked up passages? Scaling the gates? Threatening house elves with clothes? And all for some stupid musicians? You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

"And the inconvenience you are going to put the rest of your Housemates. As well as losing thirty points-"

"Fifty points" McGonagall amended, no stranger to docking extreme points even if her House stood to lose the most.

"-each, your parents will be notified immediately, and I can only begin to imagine the Howlers that will be gracing our tables at breakfast for the next few days. I'm sure detentions will also help to illustrate the ramifications of your actions."

"No, some of you are no strangers to detention. Seeing as you chose to go to Hogsmeade outside of the designated weekends, it is only right that you should have that privilege taken away. No Hogsmeade trips for the rest of the term."

"For the rest of the year," Snape amended, delighting in the slump in the students shoulders. It was almost worth the little sleep he had had.

"But sir, this is our last year," Zacharias Smith complained, realising that he would have to spend his last year at Hogwarts Hogsmeade-free. "Can't we just scrub the corridors for the rest of term?"

"You should have thought of that before Mr Smith. And seeing as you're so keen to scrub floors, you can also add a week's detention to your punishment." Snape turned to the rest of the room, daring anyone else to be foolish enough to speak. "Any more complaints?"

Ebony put her hand up. "Yes Miss Dementia?"

"May I be excused?" she said, clutching the edge of the table in an attempt to stop the nausea, her face switching from grey to green with each sway. Draco was surprised she hadn't put her hand up earlier. "I feel really sick."

"That is hardly surprising," McGonagall huffed though Ebony looked considerably worse off than even Colin Creevey, who would have probably not been caught had he not needed to stop and empty the content of his stomach in the Entrance Hall.

"Please Professor, I'm really going to-"

McGonagall would have congratulated the Slytherin seventh year on her Transfiguration speed if she had not been emptying her stomach into the transfigured bucket. Both Professors were unimpressed.

"Mr Malfoy, take Miss Dementia here back to the Slytherin dorms," Snape said once the worst of it seemed to be over and the rest of the students had been tortured enough by the sounds and smell of morning after vomit. "I will see both of you in my office after dinner tonight."

"Yes sir," Draco said, sliding of his seat and moving to help. "Come on Ebony, let's get you cleaned up."

Ebony flinched at his touch, moving away as if burnt. "I already told you not to fucking touch me _Malfoy_," she snapped, her bucket of sick sloshing dangerously. She got rid of it, replaced the inkwell, and stood. "I have a hangover – I am not a fucking invalid, and I don't need your fucking help."

"Language Miss Dementia," McGonagall warned.

"Whatever."

Draco didn't know what to do or say as Ebony stormed out of the classroom. He had no idea what he had done wrong. All he knew was that he had a fucking headache, the smell of vomit was getting him ready to add his own, and just trying to even think what hormones could possibly be getting at her was making him feel ten thousand times worse. As he laid his head on the table, waiting for their dismissal, Snape had already formulated his own ideas judging from the way Ebony had not looked at Draco once since they had been sat there and the way her eyes intermittently watered only to brush away tears. In fact, he was quite certain he knew the reason behind that lovely inexplicable outburst.

It probably helped that Snape was a Legilimens. He had seen the girl's thoughts as she rushed past.

* * *

The thoughts Snape had caught at the forefront of her mind were the same ones that refused to leave Ebony's as she tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep. Ebony hated the one flaw in the otherwise perfect Hangover Potion – it could do nothing for the alcohol-created holes in ones memory. The more she tried to make sense of the events of the night before, the less Ebony seemed sure of her memories.

She remembered drinking cocktails at the beginning of the night.

She remembered Draco giving her a vial of something, telling her to trust him.

She remembered dancing to the Goblin Charlatans.

She remembered meeting them.

Then things got really hazy.

She remembered the Forbidden Forest, though not how they got there.

She remembered Draco kissing her, and then... and then... and then...

Sighing, Ebony decided she needed another shower, and she needed to try and forget. What had happened, had happened. It might not have happened the way she wanted it, and every time she thought about it, it felt as if her insides were being wrenched apart in different directions, but she had her own way of stopping that pain, replacing it with another. It wasn't even what had happened that bothered her the most, it was the disappointed look in her grandmother's eyes if she ever knew. _Once_ she knew; Persephone had a third sense where Ebony's impurity was concerned.

She could already hear her grandmother screeching. _You're just like your mother. Couldn't keep her legs closed either! And don't get me started on your father...Not my son, but the good for nothing toe rag that helped sire the likes of you! And to think I call you my own flesh and blood..._

Reaching for the coping methods she had taped to the underside of the bed frame, Ebony noticed a note and a vial on her bedside table. Peering at the purple liquid curiously, she unfolded the note.

_Miss Dementia,_

_I have been your Head of House for the past seven years and you know that comforting students may be in my job description but it is not something I do willingly or well. I know, or rather, I strongly suspect, what transpired between yourself and Mr Malfoy and I am whatever emotion you would feel more comforted by._

_I have included a contraceptive potion. It will not kill you, though if you are unsure I am sure the female Prefect will be able to confirm that the vial does not contain poison. _

_If you require further support, Madam Pomfrey is an excellent listener and is sworn to uphold patient confidentiality. Just don't let this eat at you Miss Dementia. It would be a shame for your NEWT year to go to waste over something so unfortunate._

_Professor Snape_

Ebony laughed mirthlessly at the note – it always amused her whenever Snape made attempts at compassion and understanding - before downing the contents of the vial.

Even if it was poison, she didn't care.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **_Another chapter, therefore it wasn't poison! I am going to take this moment of your time to just say a few words. Firstly, thank you for reading (and reviewing!) – I appreciate all forms of companionship on the journey. Secondly, Ebony and Draco's relationship was pretty messed up in the original. It shall remain unhealthy._

* * *

**Chapter 5****.**

Ebony refused to let the events of that particular Saturday night get to her.

She chose instead not to think about it. At all. That Monday, she threw herself into her studies, showing up early to class and willingly following Willow to the library and staying until just before curfew with little to no complaints. If she was focused on trying to remember the properties of Cooling Potions, or helping Professor Sprout set up for her second year classes in hopes of extra credit or focused on perfecting every charm Professor Flitwick demonstrated, then she didn't have time to think.

Well, that was the plan anyway.

"Miss Dementia! Miss Dementia! _Miss Dementia_!"

"Raven!" Theo hissed, jerking Ebony out of her reverie with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"Fuck Theo, what the hell was that for?" Ebony snapped, rubbing her side.

"Mr Nott was kind enough to snap you out of whatever trance you were in," McGonagall said, drawing Ebony's attention to the fact that everyone's attention was focused on her. She carefully tuned out Parkinson's usual bitchy comment and avoided _his_ gaze. "This is the third time this week Miss Dementia. If my classes are boring you that much you are welcome to leave."

"Sorry Professor. It won't happen again."

"Make sure it doesn't. Now, as I was saying, there are several Survival aspects related to Transfiguration. For example..."

Though getting kicked out of Transfiguration after six years of bloody hard work to pass the class was not something she desired, Ebony found herself drifting off as soon as the older witch began lecturing again. This time, she at least picked up her quill so it might look as if she was at least trying even she was only doodling on her parchment that held the only information she needed – the topic of McGonagall's lecture so she could spend the rest of the evening looking up the material herself. Then on top of all her essays, she'd be so tired she'd just crawl into bed and fall asleep without another thought. Not that this plan worked very well either.

"You look like shit," Willow said as she joined her Slytherin friend at what had become their table in the library. It was far enough from Madam Pince's table that they were out of eyesight and ear shot but not far enough to arouse suspicion. She threw a wrapped up sandwich in Ebony's direction. "You missed dinner. Again."

"Yeah, sorry," Ebony apologized, giving up on Survival Transfiguration. It was interesting, but nothing was going in. All she did was stare at the page and wonder why she was even bothering. "I just forgot. Time flies when your life depends on it!"

"I am done with this bullshit Ebony. Something is wrong and you need to tell me so I can help you take care of yourself. It's been nearly two weeks since you set foot in the Great Hall – I heard the poor owl had to deliver a Howler in the girl's bathroom! Or slept by the looks of it. Have you _looked_ in a mirror lately?"

Ebony sighed. "I don't want to talk about it Will."

"Talking is no longer an option dear, it's a necessity. At the rate you're going, I give you until Hallowe'en before you completely burn out." Willow reached across the table and took Ebony's hand in hers. "Just tell me what's happened and we'll figure something out. I promise."

"Two weeks ago I snuck out to see the Goblin Charlatans," Ebony begun, the words feeling like sand paper on her. "W-with Draco."

"I know," Willow smiled encouragingly, earning a surprised look from Ebony. "Mandy and Zach mentioned you were caught as well. Had to, to justify that they weren't the only ones who'd lost their House 100 fucking points. I was waiting for you to tell me but-" A frown appeared on Willow's face as theories begun to form in her mind. "Malfoy! That's why you didn't tell me anything. That son of bitch did something to you!"

Ebony paled and moved her hand out of Willow's grasp, her eyes focused instead on the Potions textbook lying open, the formulas dancing into gibberish as her eyes stung with tears. She was so tired.

"Ebony, what did that aristocratic piece of shit do to you?" Willow demanded, moving to sit closer to Ebony so she could at least get Ebony to look her in the eyes, even if her eyes were filled with the kind of pain and sorrow Willow had not seen since fifth year. Willow had hoped they'd exorcised those demons for good. "Did he-"

"I don't know!" Ebony hissed, struggling to keep her voice to Pince-approved levels. "I don't know, okay? I don't remember, nothing clear, nothing that makes sense. It's all really hazy."

Willow frowned. "How much did you drink?"

"Nothing extraordinary. But I took something, we both did. It looked like that White Ivory-"

"Are you crazy? _White Ivory_! That's a Class Azkaban drug! Never mind the criminal record, you could have been fucking expelled!"

Ebony sunk down in her seat. "Tell the whole library why don't you?"

"Sorry, it's just... That fucking bastard! Giving you White Ivory so he could have his way with you. And knowing him, being a slimy Slytherin and all – yes, I know that's your House, but they're not exactly angels are they – he probably made it so you wouldn't go to Pomfrey or a teacher. You'd have to tell them you took drugs and from the sounds of it you were hardly forced to. That fucking bastard! Where did it happen?"

Ebony went back to staring at the formulas. "In the- In the Forbidden Forest."

Willow had to fight all kinds of rage and condense it into a angry hiss. "I'm going to kill him."

"No! I don't..." The last thing Ebony needed was an angry Willow Arcane making a scene so that _everybody_ knew. And news like that travelled. "White Ivory messes with your memories right? What if...what if I let him...you know...and I've just made it up in my head? Draco's not that kind of person."

"Of course he is," Willow snapped with such vehemence Ebony turned to look at her friend in surprise. "It's what they do, isn't it? My mother told me stories of the First War, the things the Death Eaters did, felt they were entitled to, and Draco's father is one, we all know that. He probably has the same sense of entitlement, of taking what he wants regardless of the pain he causes."

"Draco's not like that," Ebony said, shaking her head, refusing to believe it. "I wanted to and I just can't remember. That's all."

Willow scoffed. "Sure, because every girl dreams of losing their virility in the Forbidden Forest."

Ebony stared at her.

She shrugged.

"It's what my mother calls it."

* * *

The next morning saw Ebony's return to the Great Hall.

This time, however, she took a seat at the Gryffindor Table. Though she had gathered some strange looks from other early risers, Ebony enjoyed the fresh coffee and croissants served every Saturday, relishing a return to being somewhere other than the Library and her dorm, safe in the knowledge that Draco would never stoop so low as to venture to the Gryffindor table just to find her. That's if he was even looking for her anymore. After the first couple of days of her completely evading him, she figured the young Malfoy had given up. She just wasn't taking any risks.

So engrossed in the Laws of Transfiguration, it was a shock when her notes and textbook were suddenly covered in pumpkin juice.

"Watch it!"

"Sorry," the black haired boy across from her mumbled. By the overturned goblet in front of him, Ebony guessed he was the reason her notes were now illegible.

"Don't say sorry," the red-headed boy next to him said. "What's a Slytherin doing at our table anyway?"

"Weekends are House Unity weekends right?" Ebony snapped as she cleaned up the mess and then looked at her notes in despair. How was she going to save them? Would she really have to write all those notes again? "And on those days we can sit wherever we want, regardless of House." The boys looked at each other and then to the ball of frizz now sat next to Ebony.

"She's right. Weren't you two listening at the Welcome Feast? No, of course you weren't. Here, let me get that for you," she said, taking Ebony's notes and a wave later they were as good as new. "I'm Hermione Granger. I've seen you in my Ancient Runes classes."

"Ebony Dementia." She shook Hermione's outstretched hand, already hearing Pansy's screeches in her mind _You touched that filthy Mudblood_! Ebony would be sure to make sure she wiped her hand on Pansy before the morning was over.

"Has anyone ever told you that you share a name with a Muggle illness?"

"Ever thought it was a wizarding curse?"

"Oh."

"My ancestors were a nasty bunch," Ebony smiled wryly. "Obsessed with finding ways of impairing the progress of Muggles. The Dementia Curse was one of them."

"You realise Hermione's Muggleborn, right?" the red-head snapped.

"Of course, how could I not? Except in our House, Muggleborn has one syllable too many for our liking." Ebony ignored the looks of outrage. "If she's Granger, you must be Ron Weasley. And you must be Harry Potter." Like all before her, her eyes were automatically drawn to the messy fringe that hid the scar.

"Aren't you committing social suicide by being seen with us?" Harry asked, regarding the girl before him with curiosity. She wasn't at all like he had imagined, not from what he'd been told. He had expected this intriguing, dark-haired Pureblood beauty with impeccable manners, not the exhausted, dark-haired ordinary looking seventh year who was a little paler than most and had croissant crumbs over her clothes.

"I committed social suicide long ago. My best friend is in Ravenclaw."

"So what are you doing at the Gryffindor table?"

Ebony shrugged, returning to her book.

"Being seen at the Ravenclaw table isn't quite as mortifying for my fellow Slytherins."

A small smirk passed across Harry's features before he reached for the newly refilled goblet. So she was still avoiding him.

* * *

Hogsmeade Weekend found Ebony wishing she had never agreed to go to the stupid concert in the first place. Not only could she not take her mind of things by spending more of her grandmother's money than was appropriate and laughing as Willow flirted with the sales clerk at the bookstore for a possible discount, there would be nowhere to hide from a certain blonde-haired Slytherin. In a castle with only first and second years, and the odd older years unable to leave the castle for some reason or other, Ebony's tactics such as sitting at the Gryffindor Table would be useless.

So would hiding in the girls' bathroom.

"Ebony? Ebony I know you're in here, and we finally need to talk," Draco said as he looked under every bathroom stall for Ebony's trademark scuffed trainers. Ebony was stood on the toilet seat, hoping he wouldn't try and push open the door. Once he realised it was locked, he'd rightly assume she was in there. "I've exhausted what little patience I hold."

Ebony gasped as the door was blasted off its hinges. She made a mental note to stop hiding in bathrooms; the doors just ended up being blasted off leaving her feeling vulnerable and looking silly. Draco looked as rough as he ever got – he was a Malfoy after and appearances were everything – but he did not look as immaculate as usual, and there were telltale signs of a spell being used to keep the dark circles around his eyes at bay. And was that a five o'clock shadow?

He held out his hand. "Let's go find somewhere to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Have it your way then."

She barely had time to think before she felt herself thrown over his shoulder. Ebony struggled at first, pounding his back with her fist and flailing her legs, but he was much stronger than she was and she was tired. "I'll scream," she threatened instead. "If you don't put me down, I'll scream bloody murder."

"I'm not stopping you," he said, as he calmly walked through the dungeons, ignoring the weird looks from the remaining students. "Though you're more likely to get help if you shout 'Fire', so you might want to try that. Then maybe Snape and your friend, Arcane, might have actual reason to look at me in disgust. If looks could kill your Ravenclaw would be in Azkaban."

He dropped her unceremoniously onto his bed. His eyes widened as she scrambled away at his attempt to move closer to her, a look of pure fear flashing across her features before being schooled into anger. Was she actually scared of him?

"Ebony... what happened? Did someone hurt you?"

It was her turn to be confused by his behaviour. "Did someone hurt me? Did someone _hurt_ me? Is this some sick game you're playing Malfoy? Taking me out, getting me drunk, taking my virginity and then pretending nothing happened? Even daring to act concerned? You're one sick bastard Draco Malfoy."

"Your virginity...?"

Only a brief furrow of his brows indicated that her words stirred anything new within him.

"No," Draco muttered, shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts, blocking them out once more. Those memories, they couldn't be right. "I'm not like my father." He looked up at Ebony who had crawled to the furthest edge of his bed and was sat glaring at him, her knees drawn up to her chest. "I would never hurt you Ebony, never intentionally."

"So why did you?"

"I didn't." Slowly, he moved to the bed, edging towards Ebony until he was sat directly opposite her. He reached out and touched her face, ignoring the flinch at his touch. "I made love to you that night, under the stars. Don't you remember?" He gently caressed her cheek. "Of course you don't, that's why you've been avoiding me for the past three weeks. Your mind making up petty little lies..."

"My mind didn't make anything up! I remember-"

"Me forcing myself onto you? Me hurting you? You demanding that I stop, telling me no?" Draco demanded, his ice grey gaze as intense as ever and threatening to bore a hole in her own eyes. She looked away. "No? Because I wouldn't hurt you, Ebony. I love you."

Those three little words sent Ebony reeling. "You what?"

"I love you. I love you like I have never loved anyone. These past couple of weeks have been torture, knowing you didn't want to be anywhere near me and not knowing why..." He pulled her close, and still in shock, she let him. "And then I find out you thought I could possibly hurt you like that? I love you."

"You're crazy," Ebony mumbled into his shoulder, closing her eyes at the relaxing feel of him gently stroking her head. "You're a Malfoy. You can't possibly love _me_."

"_What you going to do with a Pureblood traitor, a pureblood traitor like me?_" Draco sung in response, surprising Ebony further. Draco Malfoy – singing? At the concert, drunk off their heads and under the influence, it had seemed natural, but as he hummed the rest of the song, waiting for her reply, it felt like she had slipped into an alternate universe.

Smiling, Ebony tilted her head and planted a small kiss on his lips.

"Love him back, I suppose."

"Come here," he said, easily shifting her so that they lay side by side, her head resting on his outstretched arm, the other hand undoing her bun so that her hair fell in soft waves around her. Just like she was always fascinated by his unguarded moments, he loved it when she just let go. When her hair was down, when she dressed the way she wanted and not how she was expected to and she allowed herself to just relax. He caressed her face, taking in every inch of her pale skin, lingering on the dark lashes framing sharp blue eyes that sometimes threatened to see right through him. "You're beautiful."

"Much more so than Parkinson or Tracey?" Ebony asked, placing a hand over the hand on her face, this touch strange if nothing wonderful, comforting...surprising. She had been silly – it _had_ been the White Ivory messing with her memories. Draco had never hurt her, and here he was telling her he loved her.

"Infinitely. I don't understand why you hide your beauty. I want the world to see just how marvellous my girlfriend looks."

"Girlfriend?"

"Yes – what else do I call the woman I love, besides Mother?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her inability to comprehend that out of the girls in the world, or more specifically in Slytherin, he had chosen her. "You're the only one that comes close to knowing who I am, to knowing everything, and you don't look at me any differently. I could roll up my sleeves and whatever you saw, you would still care for me, be it as a friend or more."

Draco sat up and begun unbuttoning his shirt. "Draco, you don't-"

"I just want to make sure that you know everything. That you don't walk around with the wrong image in your mind. I'm not the monster you thought I was." He took off his shirt, and with a tap of the wand against his alabaster skin, the glamour shell shimmered and fell. Ebony gasped. "I hurt too, Ebony. Please, never forget that."

"I never!" Ebony cried, wrapping her arms around Draco's body, tears falling despite her better intentions. It was a crime to maim something so beautiful, so fragile – she, she was different. "Or maybe I did. I-I'm sorry Draco!" She kissed every recent attack, angry red slashes that marred perfection, wishing that her kisses had healing properties or she knew whatever potion her grandmother used every year to render her skin a fresh slate. "I'll never forget. Not now."

Draco smiled. "Good."

He pushed her back onto the bed, claiming her mouth as his, his kisses rough and searching. This is what he had been missing, why he had felt empty, why nothing else had made him feel better – it was her lips he needed, her gentle, hesitant touch that grew steadily confident as Ebony realised that this was real. She was lying on the plush covering in Malfoy's private room, making out with the most sought after guy of her year, a Playboy who had declared his love for her and his intention to make her his girlfriend. A smile flitted across her feature at the sight of Parkinson's face when she found out.

Soon, her top was gone, ripped off as his teeth sought her skin and she gasped in delight, her hands intertwined in the platinum blond, like silk to the touch. Ebony opened her eyes to examine the Adonis that was now supposedly hers, his mouth magic on her skin, tracing a hand along the shoulder, his warm body so close to hers. She would look after him, she swore; she would make sure he would never want to hurt again, especially not because of her.

Wait- were those scratches? Ebony sat up suddenly. Draco looked at her, confused.

"What the hell are those?" she demanded, forcing him to turn around so she could get a closer look at his back. Those were most definitely not self-inflicted. She looked at him more closely, noticing the healing bruises along his collarbone – she knew _exactly_ what those were. "What the hell? What the fuck are those?"

"Ebony, I can explain," Draco begun, swearing loudly in his head at his stupidity. Of course his glamour covered those up too, and with his glamour down – _fuck_. He felt a panic rise up in him as Ebony pushed him away, and begun struggling to get her bra and top back on. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. "Ebony, please-"

"No! You know- I almost fucking believed you. I bet you and Parkinson are having a right laugh – _let's see how many times I can fuck Dementia before she realises I'm a fucking sick bastard_!" Tears were springing up in her eyes, and she couldn't tell if she was upset or if she was angry or if she was everything welling up in her chest.

"It was Pansy, yes – but I swear to you, I swear on my Father's life – that she sprung on me and I had a moment of weakness. It meant nothing!"

"Yeah right! And I'm a Satan worshipping vampire-"

He reached out to her. "Ebony, please, just calm down and listen to me."

She wrenched out of his hold. "Fuck you Draco - _fuck you_."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: **__Ebony and Malfoy sitting in a tree, when they really should not be. First comes sex, then comes angst, then comes – Well, I can't tell you because she didn't finish her bloody story, did she? But don't worry, I have an ending for you all! And it's going to be dark and angst-y and you're going to wish you were me. I mean Ebony. I mean Tara. I mean, where are my reviews?_

* * *

**Chapter 6.**

"He's still out there," Millicent announced as she dropped the baked goods from the Great Hall onto Ebony's bed, where the latter was laid back listening to Lorcan d'Eath and waiting for her nails to dry. It was the fifth time she painted them that morning. This time she was trying to see if she painted a Rune spell on top of her usual black base it would work just as well as tracing it onto her skin. And it looked unusually pretty.

"Cheers Millie," Ebony replied, ignoring her comment like she was trying to ignore the situation. Except it was just one of those things you couldn't ignore. "I owe you one."

"Yes, you do. Draco cornered me at the foot of the stairs and wouldn't let me pass until I'd sworn I'd try and convince you to talk to him." Millicent invited herself onto Ebony's bed and helped herself to a cinnamon roll. She loved weekend food at Hogwarts. Or weekends at Hogwarts in general. Always so full of drama. "So here I am."

"I really don't want to talk about it, or him."

"Well, you two are all anyone is talking about. Latest rumour is that you're actually the descendant of some powerful Vampire family and the Malfoys line depends on your union. Most of our lot are betting on some sort of long-term Love Potion though – you hang around the two smartest girls in our year and you're not so dumb yourself. No one's ever seen Malfoy like that."

Curiosity got the best of Ebony. "Like what?"

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it?" Millicent grinned, quirking a dark eyebrow.

Ebony knew that look well after rooming with the girl for six years now – on a bad day it marked the beginning of unrelenting banter to try and extract what you needed from the girl. When Millicent acquired information it was torture extracting it.

"Millie!"

"What? You said what you said." Ebony pouted, repeating please, over and over again in a whiny voice. "Fine! But only because I'm in a good mood today. He looked like crap as it was - already had a lot of people talking and Parkinson doing that sickly mothering thing she does – ugh, why is she always stroking his head like he's some sort of cat? You know where she pulls him across her lap and just strokes him, it's weird right? Anyway – now he won't even let her near him because apparently it'll make things between you and him worse. She's not left her room since their argument last night, and he's just sleeping on the landing, waiting to have a penis drawn on his face."

"Wait- what? They had an argument?"

Millicent rolled her eyes. "I tried to tell you last night but _somebody_ was being an obstinate bitch."

Ebony pulled a face in response; she supposed she had been quite rude last night, charming her curtains shut and screaming 'Lalalala' over and over until Millicent stopped being a good friend and gave up.

"They had a massive row in front of _everyone_ – I'd never seen Draco so upset." Millicent sucked on a sugary coated finger in thought. "Actually, I really have never seen Draco like this. Especially not when a girl's involved. Thought his style was more 'Fuck them, leave them' you know? You must mean a lot to him."

"If this is you trying to get me to talk to him-"

"It is actually," Millicent interrupted. "Just think about it for a second Dementia. This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about – it doesn't get any better than that, especially for you with the whole orphan thing and a bat shit crazy grandmother no one can stand. How long have we all known each other? How long have we been forced into ugly, frilly monstrosities so that we'd be pretty for boys just like him? And you're just going to throw it away because of Merlin knows what." She reached for a chocolate muffin. This was stressful. "I would kill to be in your shoes."

What Millicent was saying was true. This _was_ Draco Malfoy, most eligible bachelor since before his birth solely because of his lineage – and even with his father's reoccurring disgrace and the ambiguities of their allegiance, there wasn't a decent Pureblood girl their age who didn't want, or hadn't at one point wanted, to date the Malfoy progeny. Common sense told her this was a decent opportunity if nothing else; if he truly had chosen her, then an engagement was down the line and this meant freedom from Persephone Dementia. But to avoid a repeat of her own story, she had always sworn that she would marry out of love; not out of necessity, not because it was the right thing to do, but because she was head over heels for the guy. Her heart did a little somersault as she thought back the moment when she'd really thought he meant it.

She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"I can't mean a lot to him if he fucked Parkinson a couple of days ago," Ebony pointed out, her last feeble argument sounding ridiculous even to her own ears.

All signs pointed to the contrary: Draco was sat on the landing, having tried and failed to breach the wards that stopped boys from accessing the girls' section, probably tired and grumpy as fuck, being ridiculed by Blaise and Theo over this overly dramatic gesture _and_ he'd had an argument with Pansy – over _her_.

Millicent was evidently thinking along the same lines. "Did you not listen to a word I said?"

"Yeah but-"

"Yes but nothing. You're not even dating. He could be fucking her right now and it wouldn't matter. Just get off your bloody high horse and realise that Fate is shining kindly on you." She sighed. "And now I'm borrowing your music for the next fortnight as a thank you gift for helping you realise you're being an Ebooby."

Ebony stared at her Housemate. "Remind me why I room with you?"

Millicent flicked her brown hair over her shoulder dramatically. "Because I'm worth it."

* * *

Ebony didn't give in until the next day.

A night of tossing and turning, thinking about nothing but him, her mind conjuring a series of different What-ifs left her no choice – she had to talk to him, even if it was to scream at him again or something. Anything. He couldn't stay on the landing and she couldn't stay in her room forever, mainly because she was going to fail. This was at least the conclusion that she came to an hour into Double Transfiguration, and she had a sudden panicked thought that ol' McGoogle might be a complete and utter witch and refuse to let her back into class on Wednesday, especially since she'd spent the past couple of weeks day-dreaming during her lectures.

Draco was asleep on the landing between the boys and the girls seventh year dorms, wrapped up in a blanket. Ebony took a moment to watch him sleep; people were always so peaceful when they were asleep, and he was no exception. She was surprised that he'd let his guard down in such a public place, showing weakness that anyone could take advantage of if they themselves held a death wish – and it was all her stupid fault. Ebony realised she'd have never forgiven herself if someone did hurt Draco all because she was stubborn and he was – she really didn't know what he was.

White Ivory had clearly messed with his brain.

She sat down besides him and gently stroked his face, his stubble ticklish to the touch. She almost giggled – she'd never seen Draco sport anything other than the clean shaven look and the fuzz on his face was a darker blonde than that on his head, almost ginger. The gesture pulled him out of his slumber.

"Ebony?" he croaked, stretching out as he sat upright, his neck cracking in the process. He momentarily wondered if that was what poor people felt like every morning. His eyes focusing, he a relieved smile flitted across his features. "You came."

"I wasn't aware I was left with little choice," Ebony answered. "I couldn't exactly spend the rest of the year in my dorm."

"You're still angry." Ebony didn't look at him, instead staring ahead at the stairs that led down to the Common Room, feeling his steely gaze upon her. Her anger had ebbed away but she hated being taken for a fool. "I wish there was a way to get you to understand that I made a terrible mistake. I wasn't thinking – you weren't speaking to me at all. I missed you. And it drove me crazy."

"I don't want that life, where every time you 'miss me' I have to worry about you jumping into bed with someone, where your glamour hides more secrets than you care to share. I don't."

"And what about your glamour?" He was close, his voice tickling her neck. "Is it fair that I have never seen you behind the walls that you put up to keep everyone out?" He moved her hair away and began to trail kisses along her neck. "That you're pushing me away when I'm the only one who truly loves you, who understands what it feels like to have so much hatred that you can only push it back towards the only person you can hurt and no one will bat an eyelid?"

"Draco, I-"

He pressed his lips against hers, silencing the excuses that he felt ready to tumble from her lips. He didn't want to hear them. He just wanted to feel how sorry she was, by the way she melted into his arms, and kissed him back just as urgently; she need him too even if she didn't say it. Draco parted from her suddenly, standing up.

"Let us adjourn to the bedroom," he said, holding out his hand. He was tired of that corridor. He had done his time and now he was ready to reap the rewards of his patience. "I daresay the bed is a lot more comfortable."

Ebony took his hand and followed him, her mind whirling; she always felt that way when he held her hand, when he showed his desire for her. She could never decide if it was a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare that he was leading her into, but she did know that one day she would be forced to wake up and reality would hit her where it hurt. The door was barely shut behind them he begun to kiss her again, his hands undoing the button of her robes and letting it fall to her feet. The buttons of her shirt were not lucky enough to be unbuttoned but were ripped aside, clattering against various items in the room. He moved her to the bed, articles of clothing leaving a trail behind them as they made their way to the bed.

She kissed him back and tore at his clothes just as eagerly, but the doubt in her mind lingered as Draco pushed her onto the bed, his fingers hooking around her underwear and pulling them off in one swift move. This wasn't the first time he did this.

"Draco..."

He sighed and lay on his side, the frustration clear in his eyes as he ran his hands over her body, a thumb flicking nipple, fingers tracing enticing patterns on her hips. After moment, he spoke. "Do you trust me?"

"I do, but-"

"Then let me show you just how much I love you. I want to make love to you and for you to remember this time." He leant forward and brushed his lips against hers. "Unless of course, you don't want me."

She pulled him close, pressing her lips against his. "I do. I want you more than anything."

"Then show me."

* * *

"I'm sure your grandmother will be very pleased," Willow said as they attempted to work on some Ancient Runes coursework despite the mouth watering scent of baked pumpkins that wafted into every corner of the castle, reminding those that had somehow forgotten that it was Hallowe'en and promised an excellent feast that evening as usual. "Bagging yourself Draco Malfoy no less."

"Grandmother will only be happy when I have a ring on my finger," Ebony sighed, her stomach rumbling. She had missed breakfast and lunch in favour of catching up for the work she had intermittently missed in the month since Draco had first declared his love for her – their relationship wasn't the easy going romance that Ebony had dreamt of. It had so many ups and downs she was growing dizzy.

"The guy spent two days outside your dormitory because you had an argument," Willow pointed out. "And you lot don't do things like that for no reason. He's smitten. That ring will be on your finger before your eighteenth."

"When you say it like that I sound way too young to be getting married."

"Who's getting married?" Hermione asked as she rejoined their table.

The curly-haired Gryffindor had taken to joining them on study sessions, especially when she discovered that Willow and Ebony were more effective study partners. Harry and Ron popped by sometimes, but with the impending Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match, they were usually off practising somewhere to make sure they graduated having led Gryffindor to victory one last time.

"Ebony," Willow explained. "She claims eighteen is too young to get married, but as far as I'm concerned, no one is too young to escape their crazy grandmother's clutches for a pampered Malfoy life."

"I am, however, too young for death by Parkinson," Ebony pointed out.

"Oh bother, she'll get over it soon enough. Speaking of the hag..."

From where they were sitting they could see that Draco had just entered the library decked in Quidditch gear, most likely on the way to the pitch, accompanied by Pansy Parkinson with whom he was exchanging what looked like heated words.

"You'll ruin him Dementia, and when you do, I'll have to pick up the pieces. And it's no easy job putting back together a broken Malfoy," Pansy snapped, banging her hands on the table and drawing the attention of the surrounding tables. "Perfection is not attainable twice, nor do worthless feelings such as love perfection make."

"Quite the poet there, Parkinson. Have you been spending time with Greg?" Ebony replied with an uncharacteristic sneer. "Draco dear, you couldn't keep your friends on a tighter leash?"

Draco put a hand on Pansy's arm as she made a move to grab her wand and jinx the girl before her into the next century. Ebony was ready for it, and so were Willow and Hermione – however little he felt for Pansy, he wasn't one to let her walk into a duel where she would have no chance of winning if Pince didn't kick them out first.

"Since when did you prefer the company of Mudbloods, _dear_?" Draco replied, the smirk on his features letting her know that he was only playing if she was. And besides, Hermione's look of outrage never seized to amuse.

"Since they provide better company than that you keep."

"Careful, I'm certain you're included in that company." He turned to the fuming girl besides him, playfully interlinking an arm in hers. "Come Pansy, accompany me to the pitch seeing as my beloved would prefer to spend her time with Granger of all people. See you at dinner, Ebony."

With that he left, dragging a bemused Pansy with him to the murmurs of the library audience.

"That is not how you keep a man," Willow hissed. "Letting him walk all the way down to the Quidditch Pitch with him, where he's going to get all hot and sweaty and she'll be waiting for him..."

Ebony was unfazed, or at least appeared to be. "I trust him with all my heart."

"It would be nice if you could use all your heart to get him to stop calling me the M word," Hermione huffed as she shuffled her notesloudly. "It's like me going around calling him a See You Next Tuesday every time I saw him."

* * *

The Saturday of the match was clear and crisp, good conditions for the match that would kick off the Quidditch season.

Ebony made her way down to the grounds flanked by Millicent and Willow, feeling more and more like the Pureblood girlfriend her grandmother had always wanted her to be. It had taken her hours to get ready, something she was slowly getting used to – it was an unlucky consequence of dating Draco Malfoy. Just like Pansy had suddenly dropped three dress sizes in the short time leading up to the Yule Ball, Ebony was finding that she had to set her alarm on an hour earlier than usual so she could spend more time in the mirror doing her hair, putting on make up and wearing crease-free robes and then having to regularly disappear to the bathroom to make sure she still looked impeccable. This change had attracted it's fair share of comments, some more surprising than others.

"_Is it worth it, Raven?" Theo asked one morning when by some miracle Ebony managed to get ready within time to wander down to breakfast before anyone else. He'd been scrutinising her over his usual breakfast tome, green eyes narrowed. "Having to spend every waking moment making sure you're breathtakingly beautiful for a Malfoy?"_

_Ebony hadn't quite known what to say. "What's brought this on Alan?"_

_He'd just shrugged and returned to his book. "It's a shame that the moment the rest of the world finally realises you're a gem, it's only because you're on display in the Malfoy Prized Collection."_

As they took a seat on the Slytherin side of the stands, Ebony hoped that Draco's mood would be better after this stupid game was over. He had been unnecessarily cold that morning, brushing off her attempt to get him to eat something even though she had heard with her own ears in previous years him blaming a lack of breakfast on their loss to Gryffindor. No matter, she told herself, after the match he would be back to being the Draco that pulled her into his dorm when he had not seen her enough that week or even that day, the one who had made ridiculing the _Sunday Prophet_ over breakfast a sort of tradition, the one who did not mind being around her without his glamour even though she had yet to lower hers – the Draco that loved her.

Though as she watched the match, Ebony could not shake this sense of foreboding, and it had nothing to do with the Creevey brothers managing to be a match against Crabbe and Goyle or the Slytherin team seen to be slowly losing to the motley crew that made up the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. It was something else, like something in the air wasn't right.

It was even something other than Draco's team losing.

Ebony made her way down to the field where he was unclenching and clenching his fist, looking like he was trying to control a tantrum coming on. His team knew him well enough to keep the distance – Ebony did not.

"Draco, I'm sorry about the match. Better luck next time, yeah?" She tried to reach out to him but he shrugged her away.

"Next time? _Next time_?" The cold permeating everything from the way he looked at her to the ice of his joyless laugh made Ebony shiver. This wasn't her Draco. This was a Malfoy. "I don't need your pathetic condolences or your reassurances that everything will work out fine, because I know it won't. This-" He forced her to look at his desolate team, his grip iron on her arm. "-this is all your fault."

She wrenched out of his hold, her face incredulous at the accusation. "_My_ fault?"

"I am their Team Captain and I have been distracted by you, _seduced_ by you. Most days I can't concentrate, I can't sleep because I'm thinking about you, worrying about you and I hate it. _This_ is what it reduces me to: a fucking pathetic loser."

Ebony flinched at the vehemence, at the injustice of the hatred he threw at her_. He's just angry_, she told herself. _He'll calm down and it'll be fine. He doesn't mean a word of it_.

She tried to control her emotions, the tears threatening to fall. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"I should have listened to Parkinson." He ran his hand through his hair, trying to control the anger he was feeling, trying to reel it in but it stumbled out aimed at the girl he loved; the precise reason why he couldn't stop himself. She was the symbol of all the things he wasn't supposed to be."I am better off without you."

"Y-you don't mean that," Ebony said, her voice small against the background cheers of Gryffindors, choked by the pain of Draco's retreating back, going to join the Slytherin seventh years looking on at the scene. "Draco Malfoy you turn around this instant and you tell me you don't mean that!"

"I mean every single word. Right now, I wish I'd never met you. I hate you."

Ebony ran.

* * *

_**Conspiracy Corner**__: 'My Immortal' was written by a team of psychologists wanting to see the effect of releasing a purposely badly written Fanfiction perfectly engineered to make the reader simultaneously want to shoot their brains out and keep reading, released into a fandom known for its love of grammar, some general adherence to canon and all things that are sane (hence why it wasn't released into the Twilight fandom) to test the intrinsically human desire to make sense out of that which does not make sense. The research student who came up with it will have copious dissertation material from all the commentaries, corrections and tributes it has spawned. _

_Or something like that. We are all lab rats and there are no activists blowing down our bedroom doors to remind us that there is a world out there, with mildly polluted fresh air. _


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** These author notes do not sit right with me. I might relocate them. To like the middle of the story, right after I've written something that I really feel the need to point out. Hmm. This chapter deals with an issue that I'm afraid to say the _'My Immortal'_ did not handle with much tact or sensitivity. This tries to do so. Voldemort so doesn't speak like that.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Though she felt as if her heart had stopped, and she couldn't see through the tears, she just knew she had to get away. To get away from Pansy's taunting laugh, the stares at her humiliation, realising that she'd never just have her Draco. He'd always be a Malfoy too, and she could either deal with the unpredictable switch between the two, being loved and hated by the same person, or she could give up the one thing that had made her feel like she was finally worth something.

_I wish I'd never met you. I hate you._

How could he say such things?

When Ebony stopped running and took in her surroundings, she realised she was in the Forbidden Forest. At the clearing. Where she and Draco had supposedly made love.

"I'd forgotten how pathetic and weak teenage girls are. I suppose you're crying about a boy?"

Ebony whirled round at the taunting voice, a smooth rasping voice that slithered along her spine with every syllable. The speaker was stood at the other side of the clearing, his hooded dark figure an imposing sight even in the early afternoon light. Ebony stood her ground, wand pointed at this mysterious figure, unable to run though her mind begged her to.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

"Very well."

The first thing that caught her eye were the blood-red eyes that glinted in a manner that could only be described as the opposite to Dumbledore's twinkle. It was not his ashen face, worthy of true comparison to a vampire, or the serpentine features, the similarities to the cold-blooded creatures extending to the lack of nasal appendix, that had her wondering what she had gotten herself into – it was those eyes.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked as he began to walk towards her soundlessly despite the leaves and twigs that littered his path, waiting to crunch under his feet. "Do you know who you are pointing that stick at, silly girl?" Ebony tried to move, but her legs would not move – not because she was scared but because he had spelled her in place. "Do you know that this is where you could meet your untimely death?"

"_Petrificus Corpeus_!" The man's arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over. Well, that wasn't what she had expected. Binding him for good measure, and ending the spell on her feet, Ebony went to look at the strange man. "Who are you? Speak!"

"You truly do not know who I am do you? I am your worst nightmare, child."

"I will be your worst nightmare soon if you do not speak."

"I would like to see you try."

"_Crucio_."

"Arggghhhhhh...ha ha ha!" Ebony's momentary triumphant face fell as the scream turned into a high pitched cackle. She stepped back as he simply got up as if no spell had touched him, the binds falling worthlessly to the floor. "Foolish girl! Did you honestly think that you could use the Cruciatus on the Dark Lord?"

Ebony's eyes widened in fear. "The D-Dark L-Lord?"

"The one and only," he answered, brushing the dirt off his shoulders. "Any other time I would have regaled in torturing you just as you had planned to do me, and then twice over for your insubordination and failure to recognise your Master, Miss Dementia, but I am here for work and not for pleasure."

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"I will hear your excuses when you are serving me, for now, let us sit. I have much to ask of you."

They took a seat on a log, Ebony awed by his presence. And her own stupidity. She'd tried to torture the bloody Dark Lord! "What is it you have to ask of me - my Lord?"

"I need the Potter boy dead, once and for all."

Ebony's eyes widened. "But my Lord, he is watched, all the time..."

"But inside information tells me that you move freely within his vicinity. That he might even deign to call you _a friend_." Ebony could say nothing, her mind trying to figure out how the hell he knew such things. How was he in the Forbidden Forest anyway? Her heart skipped an extra beat when he handed her a velvet package. "Unwrap it."

Hands trembling, Ebony undid the cords and unveiled a dagger. The edges glinted maliciously.

"Even the Boy-Who-Lived cannot survive a knife to the heart."

Ebony turned to the Dark Lord. "What happens if I fail?"

"Then the Malfoy line will be without an heir."

* * *

Draco Malfoy was having a shit day.

He'd been beaten by those fucking Gryffindors, yet a-fucking-gain. He'd then proceeded to throw a tantrum fit for a Malfoy where he hurts the only person who he loves; he was indeed his father's son. How many times had he seen the hurt on his mother's face as she bore the brunt of his father's hatred, witnessed the pathetic display the day after when he bought his wife jewels from the Far East, those bloody peacocks – anything so that Narcissa might look at him again? And when she had finally done so, it was back to the whores, back to the drinking, back to the abuse. And Draco had witnessed this and promised he would never be his father.

And here he was, a month in and he was on his third shower, trying to decide what he could possibly do or say that will have Ebony forgive him. _Fuck!_ How could he be so stupid? He watched the water wash away the blood from his knuckles, from the fresh crack in the shower tiles.

He was playing Healer with his wounds when Millicent burst into his room.

"Have you never heard of common courtesy Millie?" he said coldly, tucking in the end of the bandage, grateful that his glamour was already up. She seemed unperturbed, taking a moment to catch her breath. Running was never a good thing. Ever.

"Your stupid girlfriend..." she began, before deciding she really needed to sit down. "Ebony – I think she's – you need to go see her, right now."

"I think I'm the last person she wants to see right about now."

"Look Malfoy, I didn't just run here because I need the exercise. I think she's really hurt herself."

"What do you mean, really hurt herself?"

"You can be such a dick sometimes Draco," Millicent snapped at Draco's confusion. She grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him out of his room. "Telling her you hate her and expecting her to be okay. And knowing you, you probably went and fucked Pansy within earshot. Do you _not_ remember fifth year?"

Draco frowned. Firstly, how come with Millicent dragging him he was able to make it to the girl's side of the floor? Secondly, why would he go and fuck Pansy, as if he wanted to lose Ebony forever? And thirdly, fifth year – no one really talked about fifth year, because no – Ebony wouldn't. "What's going on Bullstrode?"

"I really don't want to know. That's why you're here – your mess, fucking sort it."

"Honestly Bullstrode, who needs enemies when they have you?"

With rude gesture, Millicent disappeared behind her curtains, and he heard her put up wards and Silencing Charms. Draco frowned. Hear no evil, See no evil wasn't Millicent's style. He made his way to the other four poster bed in the room. He could hear Celestina Warbeck's warbling voice coming from within. He winced as the wards told him getting to her wouldn't be as simple as drawing back the curtains.

_...and he held me on a summer's night, and I told him he'd always be mine..._

"Ebony. Ebony! EBONY!"

"Fuck off Draco," came the muffled reply. "I wouldn't want to jeopardise your precious game."

_...Since we'd been five, she was always stealing what was mine..._

Draco sighed. "I'm sorry Ebony, I didn't mean it. You know I didn't mean it."

"You meant every word and you know you did."

"Just let me in."

"I'm making this easy for you Draco. It's over - now fuck off."

_...And he walked away but I didn't cry because I held his heart, beating in my hands..._

Draco was grateful he'd been paying attention when his father taught him how to go around basic wards. It took him awhile and he stung his hands a few time on the persistent magic but he was finally able to draw back the curtains.

He winced at the sight. It wasn't something he had ever expected to see, it was something he had never wanted to see. There was so much blood - everywhere - and Ebony just lay there in her Weird Sisters t-shirt uncaring for the blood pooling on her bed sheets; the slow but steady trickle from the gaping wounds, the deep angry slices that heralded their seriousness by the trails of dried blood, and threatening to bleed again with a renewed movement; the tentative first ones, mostly hidden but there, betraying the uncertainty that came before the shameful certainty of relief.

_...Even if he didn't love me, I held his heart and he was forever mine..._

"Ebony..." His voice seemed to spark something in her eyes, and she turned to look at him. Merlin, even her face was smeared with blood where her bloody hands had tried to stop the tears. He padded over to her, unsure of what to do. "What have you done?"

"What do you care?"

"I care because I love you, Ebony." He kissed the top of her head lightly, trying to ignore the feelings building up in his chest. This was his fault. If he hadn't- no, it wouldn't help any of them to start the downward spiral. He needed to think straight, for both of them. "We need to get you cleaned up and to Madam Pomfrey. These are going to scar - badly."

"Let them." He sighed, and lay down next to her, wishing there was a way he could hold her without hurting her. "You'll get your shirt dirty."

"I don't care about my fucking shirt Ebony," he snapped before he could control himself. "You're a fucking mess and I don't know why and I don't know what to do and you'll telling me I'm going to get my shirt dirty instead of telling me what the fuck I can do to help!"

"You can leave," Ebony replied, her voice as dead as the eyes that turned look at him.

"What has brought this on?" He brushed her hair out of her face, softly wiped the tears off her cheek. "Tell me so we can deal with it together."

She closed her eyes, his gentle touch torture. "I-I can't, Draco. Just please, leave me alone."

"Is this because of me?"

Ebony didn't answer him, but turned her back to him, some cuts angered by this movement as he had predicted. Conversation over. He thought about running to his room for some Essence of Myrtlap, anything to stop her losing anymore blood but Draco realised she wasn't going to let him touch him. Or he couldn't, not knowing that she had done this to herself, ruined every inch of herself, because of _him_.

"I'm going to go find Snape, okay?" She shrugged. "I'm sorry Ebony. I'm really sorry."

Ebony heard the words, and she wanted to roll over and tell him that she forgave him, that this wasn't his fault, not really, that this was her. This is what she did because her grandmother hated her and her parents were dead and she was a disappointment and a bastard and she had to kill Harry Potter and if she didn't she'd be indirectly killing him and everything rolled into one big mess and all she could do was lay there and cry and hope that maybe her heart would stop and she would just die.

* * *

Remus Lupin was sat in the staff room, tackling the ever-growing pile of marking, currently on his eighth cup of tea. The full-moon was nearing with it's usual rapidity, the work load piling up in parallel and it didn't help that his extra-curricular activities were much more interesting than reading through first-year essays on Dark Creatures permitted on the British Isles. He had just decided to start awarding A's to all when there was a pounding on the staffroom door. Thank the Great Divine Being That Be - he loved distractions when he was already distracted.

Except perhaps when it was one of his least favourite students.

"Can I help you Mr Malfoy?"

"No, werewolf, but you can tell me where Professor Snape is," Draco snapped, trying to look past Lupin's shoulders. Draco had already been to Snape's office, his quarters, the Great Hall and here he was standing before his least favourite teacher whom he regarded about as interesting as the dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

"Ten points from Slytherin," Remus said, wondering how many points Severus would manage to take off tomorrow of the rest of the Houses as revenge for that minor point deduction. "It wouldn't hurt you to be respectful Malfoy."

The response was a frustrated growl. "Just tell me where my Head of House is, _Professor_. "

"He's not at Hogwarts at the moment. I can pass on a message if you like."

"There's no fucking time! Ebony is-" Draco took a deep breath, to steady himself and stop from punching the lights out of this man who really hadn't done anything wrong. "My girlfriend needs our Head of House, but since he's not here you shall have to bloody well do, won't you?"

There were the expected sneers as Professor Lupin entered into the Slytherin Common Room – he clearly wasn't a popular teacher around these parts, all Team Snape for Defence Teacher all the way. He read the sign on the door before following the Prefect into the room: _Ebony Dementia and Millicent Bullstrode_. The smell of blood smacked him in the face before the sight had him reeling. Not for the first time that day, he wished the Snape was there with him.

"Miss Dementia..."

"That is my name Professor."

"What have you done?" Lupin croaked, struggling with the smell that both overwhelmed and enticed him, wondering if Malfoy could see him swaying slightly on his feet.

"I think it's pretty clear _what_ I've done, Professor."

Yes, this was true. Now, _he_ had to think of what to do. First, clear away the blood so he could think straight. Then bandage the wounds as best as he could so that she could get dressed and look semi-respectable when he led her out of the Slytherin Common Room and towards the Hospital Wing. Draco hovered at a distance, watching his actions but never coming close, something that he imagined that the girl was grateful for. Lupin was grateful that Draco had gone to look for a teacher in time – they were at the Entrance Hall when she collapsed.

Lupin was surprised that rather that Madam Pomfrey was angry as opposed to worried for her student, tutting and sighing loudly as she set about dealing with the self-inflicted injuries. Ebony probably wished she could have remained unconscious when she came to.

"You silly, silly girl! What the hell do you think you were doing?"

Lupin was shocked. "Poppy..."

"No, Remus! Ebony here has been in here for this before, haven't you? I was sympathetic the first few times, but this is ridiculous!" Ebony winced at the Matron's sharp movements, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. "Just look at this. I'm afraid I'm going to have to inform your grandmother."

"No!" Ebony cried. "You can't. She'll kill me."

"I'm not sure I see the problem seeing as your goal every year seems to be to kill yourself."

"You're right Madam Pomfrey. It _is_ better to have my grandmother burn me at the stake because I have sullied the Dementia name or anything that she thinks might cause me the most pain because let's face it – I do exactly the same to myself and so it's okay for others to do the exact same thing to me!"

"Miss Dementia-"

"No, please, don't let me interrupt your judgemental observations - do carry on telling me how stupid, selfish and attention-seeking that I am," Ebony snapped, feeling as she might throw up from the sudden bile of anger rising up in her chest. "It does wonders for my self-esteem."

Madam Pomfrey said nothing more on the subject, and healed Ebony with fewer sighs, only tutting when some of the injuries proved difficult. She didn't know what the younger woman used, but whatever it was, it was deadly. She would have to remind Severus to do a thorough search of Ebony's room because the young woman lying before her was a danger to herself. And Madam Pomfrey would have to have yet another word with the Headmaster – she had been insisting since the return of You-Know-Who that the students needed a Counsellor, someone to talk to about things going on at home, in their increasingly disrupted lives, so that they wouldn't have to resort to such...such _theatrics_. As Madam Pomfrey liked to remind those who caught her at a particularly bad time, she was only one person, and there was only so much one person could do.

Lupin sat on a bed nearby, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to pull back the drawn curtains and tell him that Miss Dementia was going to be fine with a couple of days rest, so that he could then go and tell the worried blond outside that his girlfriend was going to live, even though from the sounds of it she was everything but fine. Lupin thought of his own scars, some self-inflicted whilst in the hold of the full moon, a completely different creature that sought to hurt something, someone and ended up sinking its claws into himself, and others the result of fights with creatures alike and unlike himself. He wondered what kind of pain had led her to willingly cause herself even more pain...?

Night fell and he stayed in the Hospital Wing, the question still on his mind. Ebony was fast asleep thanks to a Dreamless Sleep Potion, and could look forward to the next couple of days under Madam Pomfrey's hawk eye. Lupin heard the familiar footsteps echoing through the silent Wing, and felt the familiar possessive arms wrapping themselves around him and pulling him flush against the body he was beginning to know better than he should.

"And why do you feel that you have authority over my students, _Remus_?"

His name always sounded so mocking on _his_ lips, just like his lips always felt so wonderful on his...anywhere. "I can hardly be blamed for your disappearance from the castle, can I Severus? Miss Dementia needed you and Malfoy thought I would just have to do."

Snape frowned as he looked at the sleeping girl. "How is she?"

"Asleep."

"Lupin, there is only room for one sarcastic bastard in this relationship," Snape hissed, his breath hot on Lupin's ear, the werewolf's shiver sending tingles down his own spine. "And I'm afraid that's me."

"She's a mess. I don't understand how someone can-" Lupin sighed, leaning back into his partner's hold. He still had marking to do as well. "I think you might have been right about Malfoy."

"Unless she accuses him directly, I'm afraid there's nothing we can do except be there for her." It was Snape's turn to sigh, resting his head on that of his mate's, breathing in his earthly scent. "I hate being a Head of House. Fucking students, making me pretend to care about them."

"Yes, Severus, God forbid you should actually do your job."


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:**__ I think Snape and Lupin are quite cute as pairings go, when they don't have any video cameras with them that is. This is one of those chapters that comes in between other chapters and you're not sure why it's there but you know it can't be any another chapter. And this is one of those Author's Notes which comes at the top of stories and you wonder why the author put it there and thanked a clearly non-existent beta_.

* * *

**Chapter 8.**

Having to regularly call into the Hospital Wing and being assigned Millicent to watch over her put a stopper in Ebony's mission to kill Harry before it had even started. Madam Pomfrey had used Ebony's fear of guardian involvement in the matter against her and it had recently been brought to Snape's attention that Miss Bullstrode was currently doomed to pass the year with a D in Defence Against the Dark Arts...

And of course there was Willow, who had hovered between screaming at her and crying since the Sunday afternoon, having been informed by a mournful Draco exactly where her best friend was to be found.

"The face he had…I thought you'd died," Willow said, holding her tightly before letting go and punching Ebony solidly in the arm. "But you _could_ have almost died, you silly bint. You pinkie promised that you would come and talk to me always when you felt like..._you know_. You _pinkie_ promised. "

Ebony rubbed her arm gingerly. "I know, I know, and I'm sorry. I was just so upset, Will, I didn't even stop to think. Or you know I would have been outside the Ravenclaw Common Room screaming at that stupid Eagle and it's impossible questions."

"That fucking aristocratic cunt! I swear, next time I see him, I'm going to fucking kick him in the balls."

"Willow, please, don't make it worse. As far as I'm concerned, I'm just going through a rough patch and we're still together. Can't have my grandmother getting disappointed, can we?"

Willow harrumphed. "If he wasn't your one way ticket out of Dementia hell, you know I would kill him right? A medium-rare steak stuffed right up his nose should do the trick."

* * *

Ebony barely saw Draco in the fortnight that followed. Either he wasn't at dinner or he made sure that he was surrounded by the boys, an impenetrable fortress that Ebony had no desire to breach. She sat with Millicent, pretending his existence didn't affect her, occasionally glancing in the direction of the Gryffindor table, wondering how exactly she was supposed to kill the Boy-Who-Lived. Maybe she could just walk up to him one lunchtime and just get it over and done with, no one would see it coming and in the frenzy, she could hot-tail it out of the castle and hope to blend into the Muggle world. Surely it couldn't be that hard to live without magic?

When she wasn't thinking about that, she was wondering how to convince Snape that she could be trusted enough to see her four poster returned because she missed the privacy of having her own little cocoon. _And_ at what point she'd have to stop undressing under Madam Pomfrey's judgemental eye every other day to make sure she was keeping her promises. It would also be nice to know when Millicent would finally unglue herself from her side.

Three weeks had passed before she bumped into Draco on the landing. She didn't really bump into him. He was sat there waiting for her, his Transfiguration textbook open on his lap even if he didn't seem to really be taking it in. His face was permanently in a frown, a frown that she wanted to reach over and crease out. Instead she hovered in front of him, aware that Millicent was coming up any minute with the mail-order hamper of chocolate Ebony had been forced into buying as thanks for the girl's constant hard work.

"I didn't quite understand that part of McGonagall's lecture," Ebony said, pointing to a random paragraph on the page. "Mind explaining it to me?"

"Sure," Draco said, a little take aback. This was the first time she'd spoken to him since the incident and she was talking to him about Transfiguration? He caught the look in her eyes, heard Millicent's heavy breathing and footsteps and understood. "My notes are in my room though. You could come up for a minute, if you like?"

"Millie, I'm just going to Draco's – is that okay with Her Highness?"

"Fine, but don't forget to wake me up tomorrow morning," was Millicent's response.

Ebony smiled, the first smile Draco had seen her face in what seemed like forever, and relief washed over him as she took his hand and led them to his room. Merlin, he had missed her touch. She sat him down and passed a scrutinising look over his face, lifting a lifeless strand of hair, running her hands across the drooped shoulders that were so uncharacteristic to him, even in private.

"You look like shit."

"That is because, according to Arcane, I am a Death Eater Cunt Piece of Shit that no fly would even consider worthy to land on, amongst other insults." He sighed and rested his head on her stomach, grateful that she pulled him close, stroking his hair as he steadied his emotions. Maybe if she forgave him, he could start to forgive himself. "She spews a lot of shit herself, but she is right about one thing. I deserve the Dementor's Kiss for what I did to you."

Ebony stepped away, to look at the Malfoy heir sat before her. "What are you on about?"

"You're hurting yourself because I hurt you. That first night, the night of the concert, I swear to you I didn't know what I was doing. I was completely off my head, Ebony, and I-I never meant... And then afterwards, I tricked you...I..."

Ebony straddled him, kissing away his tears, though she was crying her own. He welcomed this response, holding her tight, swearing that he would never let her go, he would never hurt her again. She wanted to say that it had nothing to do with that, but the words stuck in her throat, and all she could do was make up the only way they knew how.

"It'll be okay," she said as she traced salty kisses down his body, unbuttoning his shirt to his shaky moans. She unbuckled his belt. "It'll be okay."


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:** Dumbledore's so useless sometimes, isn't he?_

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Ebony awoke to the sound of running water.

She stretched and smiled at the empty space that had previously been occupied by her boyfriend, who she'd had the pleasure of waking up next to for the past fortnight and from the sounds of it was currently in the shower.

She and Draco had decided to spend Christmas break at Hogwarts; it would be a perfect opportunity to continue to bond and Madam Pomfrey was quick to agree that only Morgana knew what Ebony would get up to left to her own devices. Ebony did not share that she was equally as worried for her other half. During the recovery process from "The Incident" they had become been practically inseparable; much to Pansy's dismay who had been hoping for a swift break up. This meant that Ebony had seen why Draco's bathroom was such a mess – she had been witness to the mood swings that he barely hid from the world, and been scared for her life when the plate he threw narrowly missed her head. But just as he put up with her silences and sudden outbursts, she would call a house-elf to clear up the mess and help him bandage his hand the way Pomfrey had taught her and then, more often than not, they would have sex until they fell asleep or one of them remembered they still had this thing called schoolwork and Draco, Quidditch. She often went with him to practices, so that he knew she was safe and he could focus.

Their relationship was fucking tiring but all in all, was worth it.

"Morning handsome," she purred as he walked out of the bathroom, hair dripping and a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. She sat up, the sheets falling from her naked body, a clear invitation to her lover. A smirk flashed across his face.

"Ebony dear, I've only just had a shower," Draco said, crawling towards her, his kisses gentle. "You'll get me all dirty."

"Mmhmm, but you can have another later." She pulled him down towards him, pulling at the towel that stood between decency and the descent into debauchery. "And this time I'll be there too."

"And with your glamour up or down?" he murmured into her neck. He gasped as felt her chilled hands on his member, the touch electrifying after his hot shower.

"Let's not argue today, mm'kay? Let's just enjoy our first Christmas Eve as a couple, and then wake up and enjoy Christmas Day."

Draco rolled his eyes, but acquiesced. She was right – there was no need to spend Christmas Eve screaming at each other when they had a nice walk around the grounds planned, and then warming up with some mulled wine and maybe a wander down to the Great Hall to see if anyone of interest had stayed around for Christmas Break. Instead he reconciled his frustration the only way he knew how: taking back control.

There was nothing he loved more than seeing the marks of his love-making on his girlfriend's body. There was also nothing he hated more than to find the next morning that they had disappeared under her glamour.

* * *

They argued anyway; it was just too good an opportunity to pass up.

They'd had their chilly walk around the grounds, stopping to help some lower years in a snowball fight against the Gryffindors who cried foul because they, as seventh years, were using much more advanced magic than they had, but you know what they say: _All's fair in love and war_. They retreated to their room to change clothes, warm up and enjoy the mulled elf wine Draco's mother had sent over before making their way to the Great Hall, where the four tables had been replaced by one long table. On which was sat Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood.

Ebony didn't notice how Draco stiffened at the look Harry cast him. She noticed only the cold response when she suggested that they sit with them, just to make conversation with people other than Slytherins, with people other than them. She watched him sit as far away from the two as possible, and gestured for her to join him. But Ebony, being Ebony on wine, chose to introduce herself to the barefoot Ravenclaw and greet Potter like an old friend, who could do nothing more than be polite in the midst of this lovers tiff.

"He looks pretty angry," Harry commented when Draco had finished eating his food and stormed off, making sure the doors slammed behind him. "Maybe you should go after him before he begins breaking something."

Ebony looked at him in surprise. "How do you know what Draco's like when he's angry?"

He shrugged. "He's a fellow Seeker, and my self-declared archnemesis. You learn a thing or two."

And so Ebony excused herself, running once she was in the Entrance Hall and pounding on the door that hadn't been locked to her in a while. And as expected he told her to fuck off back to her new best friends, that clearly it was Potter's bed she would prefer to be sleeping in, that clearly he wasn't enough for her and he didn't want to see her tonight. So on Christmas Eve, she took the green and silver blanket he'd brought her for their two month anniversary especially for this purpose and spent Christmas Eve with Madam Pomfrey. She had made too many promises this time.

* * *

Christmas Day found Ebony waking up at the first signs of sunlight and dashing down to the Slytherin Common Room. Surely he'd have calmed down by now. _Yes_, the door was unlocked and the Christmas presents were piled up at the foot of the bed, including her own because she could spot the horrible Christmas wrapping that her Grandmother was so fond of using ever single year. But something didn't seem right – the bed was done and there was no sound of the running water.

"Draco?" Ebony called out uncertainly, her heart beginning to climb upwards until she could feel it beating in her throat as she edged to the bathroom. _He wouldn't, stop being stupid Ebony, he wouldn't do that. Not on Christmas Day_. She thanked Merlin it was just an overactive imagination, and that the bathroom looked like it did on any other day. But then, where was he?

She ran to her dorm, to see if he had maybe spent the night there, waiting for her to come back. No sign. She ran all over the Common Room, asking the portraits if they had seen any sign of him but were either unhelpful or gave disdainful sniff at being awoken by someone with no authority whatsoever. He wouldn't be in the Great Hall – it was too early. Maybe he'd gone for an early fly? Deciding to stay in one place in case he came back, Ebony crawled into his bed and reached for his favourite pillow. It was there she found the note.

_I'm sorry that I hurt you. I can't live with myself knowing I caused you so much pain, that I can never be the one that you truly deserve. Please don't try and find me. I love you Ebony_.

_Forever yours, Draco._

It didn't make any sense. He was sorry that he had hurt her? When? They'd been over this – she had forgiven him, he knew that she forgave him, that she would always forgive him and that she loved him. Ebony read the note over and over again trying to make sense of it, but it didn't make sense. This wasn't Draco. Something was wrong.

Dumbledore was hardly sympathetic.

"I'm afraid Miss Dementia, that Mr Malfoy is of Age and if he so wishes to disappear into the dead of the night that is entirely his prerogative," the Headmaster replied, doing nothing to assuage Ebony's tears that were slowly turning into anger at this old man's unhelpfulness. "It wouldn't be the first time Mr Malfoy has left the castle without a teacher's permission."

"But that was different!" Ebony snapped. "There was a reason for us to leave the Castle. What is his reason now? We had plans, sir. He wouldn't just leave!"

"Ah, but if I am not mistaken, yourself and Mr Malfoy had a fight only last night."

"Yes, but-"

"Then could it not be simply be his way of worrying you? He could be currently at home, safely tucked away in Malfoy Manor, gleeful at the thought that you are running around headless, worried for him."

"He wouldn't do that, sir." Except as Ebony said it, she wondered if there might not be truth in Dumbledore's words. Draco could be cruel. But this wasn't style. And he had promised her he would never leave her, not without good reason, not like this.

"Miss Dementia, I suggest you go back to your dorm and prepare yourself for the upcoming festivities. Don't hate the player, my dear, hate the game. Lemon drop?"

* * *

_It was a dungeon of some sorts, chains hanging from the dank stone walls. Draco was hanging from a pair of these, his face slick from the effort of keeping his body weight off his bleeding wrists._

"_My father will hear about this, you disgusting little rat," Draco snapped at the man shuffling about the room, gleefully placing torturous instruments on the table. "And then you'll be sorry you ever crossed me."_

"_Your father already knows about this," the Rat said, laughing at the expression on Draco's face. "And there's not a damn thing he can do about it without needlessly putting his life in danger."_

"_You're lying!"_

"_If I was, then surely I wouldn't be able to do this?" Draco screamed as the man placed the hot poker on his arm, the pain unexpected and unbearable. "Oh there is nothing greater than hearing a Malfoy scream."_

"_You won't get away with this."_

"_We'll see about that, won't we?"_

Ebony sat up suddenly, her body covered in sweat and her ears still ringing with the sound of Draco's screams. Everything suddenly made sense. Harry Potter was still alive. This meant that Draco was going to die.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: You didn't really think I'd forgotten about the random, rather incomprehensible, bouts of promiscuity, did you?_

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Ebony spent the next day in the Library looking for anything that might help her find Draco.

Despite what Dumbledore had said, she knew what she had seen and Professor Trelawney had said it herself at Christmas Dinner; Ebony looked like someone who had Seen. And every time she closed her eyes, she kept Seeing; seeing Draco tortured and tortured again by this rat of a man apparently called Wormtail who liked nothing but to hear the younger Malfoy scream. So she had taken enough Pepper Up Potion to stay awake for at least 60 hours and taken to the library, leafing through tome after tome. Scrolling Spells...Summoning Chants...Wilful Apparition...Homing Hippogriffs...anything. But some took weeks of set up, others were too complicated and some the information incomplete and carried warnings of death.

Her notes were illegible and moral low when she snuck back into the library after Madam Pince had kicked her out. She reasoned that she couldn't sleep anyway and that the answer must be somewhere. She delved deeper into the Restricted Section, listening out for Mr and Mrs Norris, the duo always out to ruin students' lives. So far her best bet was this Wilful Apparition. Except it had a 95% chance of Splinching and a 35% chance of Death, 5% chanceof Time Travel with no way back and a 2% chance of Apparating into Limbo, and therefore classed as highly dangerous.

There was this one book that they all kept referencing that might hold the key to her problems: Am C. Aar's _Where There is A Will, There is A Gerard Way_. Ebony was in the midst of her quest for it when she heard the telltale meow of Mrs Norris. Quickly extinguishing the lantern, she moved further away, deeper into the depths of the Library where the Restricted Section re-joined the General sections.

If it wasn't for the hand that covered her mouth, she would have screamed the library down. Ebony had just backed into somebody, and in what little moonlight that streamed in, she could barely make out what was in front of her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said once they were once again in silence, no meow or shuffle from Mr Norris to be heard. "So you have to promise not to scream once I let go, okay?"

Ebony had heard his voice before. He was most definitely a student. She nodded and he let go off her mouth. "Who are you?"

"That doesn't matter. All you need to know is that I understand what you're going through. I believe you – about Draco. I know he didn't just leave, that he's in danger and that you are going to spend every waking moment to get him back."

"How would you know all of this?"

"Do you often ask questions that don't matter?"

"So what is question that does matter?"

"If your boyfriend isn't around to hear you moan, does it count as cheating?"

"What are you doing?" she asked as a hand snaked down her neck, resting on her breasts. But she didn't move, letting out a shuddered breath as the hand squeezed it roughly. His voice was a low hot rumble on her ear.

"Keeping you company. I need it, you need it."

He pushed her forward, and she held her hands out to stop herself from falling face first onto the table; despite her mind screaming to think of Draco, or because of this, she felt a thrill of excitement at the roughness, and the feel of the stranger's grinding his erection into her back.

"We shouldn't do this," Ebony moaned as he kissed her neck urgently, his hands pushing up her top and bra, her nipples hardening at the chill they were exposed to, and adding to her arousal as rough hands flicked, squeezed and pulled at them. "Draco-"

"-will understand," the stranger finished, his hands travelling down the waistband of her jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down in swift, practised motions. "This is exactly what he would do if you were to disappear, is it not?" Ebony gasped as his fingers found their target. "Fuck the nearest thing that moves because he knows he can and you love him enough to forgive him."

"I'm not like him..."

But her wetness and her moans gave her away, and she did not move when he pushed her further forward onto the table, leaving her exposed and ready for him. Instead she parted her legs and pushed back onto him as she felt him at her entrance, loving every moment she allowed this stranger to pound into her, his tightening grip on her thighs threatening to leave marks and the sound of flesh against flesh threatening to have Mr and Mrs Norris come running back. This satisfaction of the flesh, this meaningless endeavour, could allow her to momentarily forget that her boyfriend's life was in danger because of her. All she knew was that she was going to cum and from the quickening, deepening pace of the stranger, he was close.

As he leant against her, finally spent, his breathing heavy, he placed a single kiss on the small of her neck.

"You and Draco are meant for each other."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: This chapter seems a little superfluous. But you know, Tara - I mean, Ebony, hasn't had a chance to shine yet!_

* * *

**Chapter 11.**

It had been three days since Draco's disappearance.

Ebony woke up with a start from the unexpected nightmare, and having run out of tears to cry for her Draco, she simply laid back on the bed and waited for the twisting in her heart to stop and the screams in her ears to ebb away. Killing Potter was nowhere as simply as the Dark Lord made it out to be or he would have done it himself by now – the former was either never alone or it seemed kind of rude to be mid-conversation and just you know, get out a knife and stab him in the heart.

So the only choice she was left with was the highly volatile, highly dangerous but still possible Wilful Apparating. If Professor Trelawney was right and she was Seeing, then all she had to do was imagine Draco and his prison, and her magic would lead her to him. Once in there, she had memorised several unlocking spells of varying difficulty to get him free and could Disarm and Disable with enough accuracy to be an opponent against that Wormtail. Then Side-Along Apparition to Dementia Manor made more sense than trying to Wilfully force herself through the Hogwarts wards once more. She didn't want to hurt Draco anymore than he already would be.

So 'twas the plan. After a decent breakfast, she would don her war paint and go kick some Wormtail arse. And quite preferably not Splinch, get killed or break a nail.

First part of the plan: executed with near perfection. She staggered into the dungeon that had haunted her for the past couple of days and then proceeded to spew her guts on the floor from the sheer force and speed of the travel. If normal Apparition was like being squeezed through a tube, then this was like being shot through a straw.

"Typical," came the familiar drawl. "The first thing you do upon arriving is throw up. You're one classy lady Dementia."

"Next time I'll remember to wear dress robes on my rescue mission, shall I?" Ebony snapped as she rushed to Draco's side. He was weak and hurt but he was alive and smiling at her; she had come for him. He had known she would, that she had to. "Where's Wormtail?"

"I don't know. But he'll be down soon – you can't have just entered the Dark Lord's Manor without triggering some sort of alarm." As if on cue, shuffled footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. "Hurry up woman – what the fuck is taking you so long?"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I was trained to do this for a living."

"Less sarcasm and more unlocking."

Typically, it was the last charm that Ebony tried that proved to be the one that set Draco free just as the door opened and the rat man burst in, wand at the ready. This is where things started to deviate a little from plan. He wasn't alone: he was accompanied by two Death Eaters and Ebony had not planned for a three against one combat. Draco was barely able to stand. Ah, fuck it. If she was going to die, she was at least going to take them down with her.

In the space between the first spell being shot and shattering her Shield Charm, she forgot all she had learnt at Hogwarts through the six teachers who had failed to teach her anything beyond basic duelling and remembered all the gruelling summers of having to avoid being cursed by her own grandmother. And this time, at least, it was perfectly okay to maim, or even kill her opponent.

Two down, one to-

"DRACO!"

Time stood still as Draco fell to his knees, grey eyes wide in shock, clutching at his stomach, Wormtail holding a bloody dagger in his hand, his orders accomplished. The Malfoy line was to be without an heir. Too bad for the Dark Lord that his Death Eaters were to be short a rat. Ebony did not know what primal anger took over her; why it felt only natural to charge and then smack her elbow straight into Wormtail's face, like she didn't have a wand. Wormtail stumbled, the dagger cluttering at his feet as he staggered backwards, holding his shattered nose. Ebony picked up the dropped weapon, and before she could even think, could feel the beating of Wormtail's heart against her hand.

She stumbled back in shock as he slid down to her feet, the last of his miserable life trickling fatally away from him; she had just killed a man. _It was for Draco_, she told herself as she moved towards him. Draco was bleeding profusely, she needed to get him out of there – she hadn't come this far just to lose him.

"To think a little girl could hold her own against three of my Death Eaters. I would congratulate you if you hadn't shown an incapacity to follow the most simple of instructions."

The voice sent shivers down her spine, and those eyes... Ebony bowed her head respectfully at the Dark Lord's appearance. "I have been incapacitated my Lord. Killing the Boy-Who-Lived isn't as easy as it might at first appear."

He waved a hand as if to wave away her excuses. "This time, perhaps, your precious Draco has been lucky, but I can assure you, if Potter is not dead by the end of the year, next time there will be nothing left for you to rescue."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Follow me, dear Reader, as we deviate from the Path of Tara, but worry not, the path I lead you is still one of dubiously put together explanations layered with loosely in character characters and could cause thoughts as 'For the love of God, get this Mary Sue rubbish away from me' and 'Why? Just...why?' In other words, this is a filler because characterisation.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 12. **

"How much longer do I have to remain here, incapacitated like some sort invalid? My mother is not paying hundreds of Galleons for you to tell me that you are doing 'the best you can' – she is paying you to bloody hurry up and make me better!"

"M-Master M-Malfoy, please, it is always delicate when dealing with a curse wound," Healer Malthus stammered, trying to impose onto his young ward the gravity of the situation and why he had to be stuck in bed rather than doing whatever lively things pure-blooded wizarding males did with their time. "It takes more time than a normal wound. And, of course when dealing with organs-"

"Yes, yes, I cannot merely go out and _buy_ another organ – you have already used that line," Draco snapped, giving the balding Healer in the customary forest green robes donned by those in the private sector the best withering glare in his repertoire. "Very well, I will continue to exhaust my patience like some sort of common Muggle. As if we don't have magic for a reason."

"Ah yes, but magic cannot cure everything. We have yet, for example, to find the cure to cancer, and we have only a basic grasp of the wide array of magical illnesses that one may contract in their day-to-day dealings. Your grandfather for example-"

"Died of a rare strand of Dragonpox, common only in Veelas who have a different immune system to ours. How curious, and suspicious and insightful, and so on and so forth," Draco sighed impatiently. "Do you have nothing better to do than bore me to death? Perhaps if you spent more time actually _looking_ for a cure to all these diseases rather than talking about them, there would be less diseases and you would have figured out a way to heal curse wounds that didn't involve me sitting in bed for days and having to deal with your insufferable blathering!"

"Really Draco," Narcissa Malfoy sighed as she entered the room that Healer Malthus was just exiting in the usual, hasty and stung manner that he had when he was dealing with the Malfoy males. It was a wonder that he had stuck with the family for so long, considering. "Some days I wonder if the Malfoy gene comes with an inability to show any sort of respect at all."

Draco's tone was quick to change at his mother's appearance.

"But Mother, it _hurts_," he pouted, running a hand over the bandages around his body for effect. "And he's not making it any better, or at least it doesn't feel like it and then he just sits there and _talks_..."

"I know-I know my little dragon is in pain," Narcissa said, stroking his hair as he leant against her, taking in the powdered floral scent that was his mother and comfort. "But Mummy is here, and what's important is that you are _alive_. When your father told me he was just letting you-" She stopped herself and kissed his forehead. "No matter - you are safe and that is what matters. It is so very kind of Persephone and Ebony to allow us to stay with them. I cannot imagine trying to explain this to the Ministry on top of your father's disappearance..."

"Well, you know Father - unfortunately he always comes back."

"Oh hush Draco, you shouldn't say such things. It is thanks to your Father that I have had the opportunity to completely renovate the East Wing after the Aurors pulled it apart and then didn't feel the need to put anything back in place."

"Third time's always a charm."

"Quite."

They shared a moment of complicity against the Head of Household, moments that were special because only they, and perhaps the odd mistress for a moment or two, were witness to the Lucius Malfoy in his entirety. In public, he was an imposing man, considered cold and aloof with a temper easily on those who did not realise that he was a Malfoy and exactly what that meant; in private, he was an imposing man, cold and aloof with a temper always turned on those who had done nothing but support him and comport themselves in the Malfoy Manner. That is why Narcissa turned a blind eye to the endless string of mistresses and Draco didn't just shove his father's fucking hypocritical expectations down his fucking throat.

Draco was the first to break the silence. "Speaking of Mrs Dementia and Ebony... Have you managed to convince her grandmother that it is perfectly acceptable for us to see each other? _Alone_?"

"Persephone is rather...old-fashioned. She comes from an idyllic time where all Pureblood witches were virgins and all Pureblood males when left in a room alone with said virgins were unable to control themselves and would ruin them for their future husbands."

"But _Mother_," Draco whined, not looking forward to another evening where Ebony couldn't even sit on the bed to talk to him. She had to sit in a chair a respectable distance away whilst either his mother or her grandmother or both were sat somewhere pretending not to listen to a conversation that had to be restricted to the most banal things. "I am incapacitated, so even if I was some sort of brute, I _can't_ ravage her."

Narcissa raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "I've heard that one before Draco."

"_And_ even if I were to somehow manoeuvre around this excruciating pain that I'm in, I am technically her future husband so I cannot ruin her for myself."

"Oh please darling, this is the same argument you presented when Juliet Parkinson point-blank refused to let Pansy stay at Malfoy Manor without her cousin as an escort and look how that turned out," Narcissa pointed out, much to her son's disgruntlement. "Six months down the line, you decided Daphne Greengrass was the perfect wife-material. _Her_ parents were so mortified they felt the need to send her to another country!"

"I swear to you, that this is different," Draco insisted. "I _love_ her – I can't bear the thought of being without her, I can't – I have _never_ been able to bear the thought of anyone else being with her, even when I didn't see her that way. And do you really see any of the girls I have set my eyes on risking their lives to come and save me?"

"If she is really The One, then surely you can wait a couple of months where you can copulate to your heart's desire without danger of Persephone burning off your testicles for ruining her granddaughter?"

"I can't ruin what is mine! I will propose – tonight, if I have to. It's like telling me I can't sleep in my bed at home because Father is still alive. But he will die, I will inherit it, and it will be mine. It's absolutely absurd."

Narcissa sighed. She'd raised a right little brat; her mother would have been proud.

"Do what you will Draco, it isn't like I can stop you. Just don't come crying to me when you find yourself unable to carry on the Malfoy line and your father is in a mood to care about it."

Draco gave his mother's hand a reassuring squeeze.

* * *

"Where did you get that?"

It was the only sentence Ebony could get out as she stood transfixed in her bathroom doorway, staring at Draco who was sat on her bed, far from the bed he was supposed to be in whilst continuing his steady recovery to his usual self. Clearly his recovery was going much better than anticipated. Despite having his proposal (temporarily) rebuffed by the Dementia matriarch, he still thought it well within his right to appear in Ebony's bedroom unescorted and simply rummage through her things.

Draco seemed unfazed by the chill in Ebony's voice and the steely gaze. He merely continued to stroke the blue velvet case in hand, in his usual, irritating, languid manner. "One of my cufflinks rolled under the bed whilst I was waiting. I would have missed it if an edge wasn't hanging out, by accident I assume, and curiosity got the better of me. I must say, it's quite an extensive collection you have here."

He unrolled the pouch, displaying Ebony's shame and secret all in one easy move. At one point, it had been her pride and joy, the collection of sharp edges, picked up here and there, carefully rebuilt after fifth year, safe here within the Manor. The only thing that had been missing, that would always be missing most likely, was her late father's Goblin-Made Swiss Knife that had started everything, and Ebony had always sworn would end everything.

Laid out besides Draco, it took all her strength not to run over and snatch it from him, maybe smack him one in the face for being such a pompous ass. She momentarily wondered if the best thing to do in this kind of situation wasn't to simply cry. She settled on silently emanating just how pissed off she currently was and doing her typical avoidance dance.

"You're _not_ supposed to be in here."

"This is true," Draco acquiesced, "But nor are _you_ supposed to still be doing this. Your grandmother seemed very anxious to find out if I knew anything about your little habit - I suppose I should take it as a sign that she's relenting to my proposal."

"And should I take this as a sign of things to come, _husband_?" Ebony loved the flare in Draco's grey eyes at the mocking tone with which she addressed him. "I obviously haven't had time to get rid of everything – I even forgot it was there."

"So you won't mind if I take this?"

_Of course, I'll fucking mind_, Ebony's mind screamed, setting a panicked flutter in her chest.

"You have no right."

"How about we strike a deal?" Draco offered, reading her clenched jaw like an open book. "I'll let you keep your little toys and pretend you're actual serious about stopping and you will finally open up to me. We are going to sit down and we are going to talk about what happened last term when you were supposed to be better."

Ebony snapped.

"I _am_ better! I am fucking _better_!" How she hated that word, thrown around by everyone who just didn't understand, who thought that they could just take one look at her and decide her progress, whether she was doing Better or Worse. "How _dare_ you sit there and pass your hypocritical judgement on me when you are just as bad as I am? How dare you go through my things and presume you have a right to it?"

She let out a frustrated growl, closing her eyes to stop her from seeing red.

"At least I am _honest_ with you," Draco snapped back. "From the very beginning I have been honest with you, I have let you be a part of my life, the good and the bad. You've seen the state of my bathroom because I've let you and you have seen my scars because I let you. And me? I have to content with accidentally stumbling across your secrets."

"I am not you, _Draco_, I simply don't want to talk about it."

"The last time you didn't talk about something, I almost died, remember?" Glacial blue met icy grey in a piqued stare. "I had a lot of time to talk to Wormtail as he took great delight in torturing me to a slow death. He was kind enough to tell me that the _only_ reason I was there was because _you_ wouldn't kill Harry Potter. But I could understand that – I thought to myself, my Ebony isn't a murderer, it's part of her charm. What pissed me off to no avail however - what fucking hurt Eb - was that not once did you fucking tell me."

Ebony looked away. "I couldn't..."

"You mean you wouldn't."

"I _tried_! The words just never came out. What was I supposed to say? _'Hey Draco, guess what? Remember that fine day when you told me you hated me, I ran into the Dark Lord who kindly informed me if I didn't kill Harry fucking Potter he'd kill you'_?"

Draco bristled. "I don't see what's so difficult about that."

"And what exactly would this sharing of information have achieved? You'd have done it for me?"

"No, but I would have been on the look out, I'd have found a way to help you – anything!"

"You could have helped me by not playing the hero that day. If you'd have just left me alone-"

"I wouldn't have known a thing, once again, if Millicent hadn't barged into my fucking room babbling on about fifth year-"

"This was _nothing_ like fifth year, and I wish you would stop bringing it up like-"

"-I'd have gone to sleep thinking you were just pissed off and it'll all blow over as usual, instead I would have woken up to find that my girlfriend was _dead_ and-"

"Maybe I would be better off dead!"

"_Maybe_ you need to stop thinking you can solve all your problems by taking your own life!"

They were now both on their feet, Ebony having left the sanctuary of the bathroom doorway and Draco off the bed; and they were stood face to face, usually pallid faces tinted with pink spots of anger. She hated this, this constant arguing, subtle blaming of one another for things they did without really thinking, without explanation or knowing why they did them. Ebony couldn't begin to imagine finding the words that would explain to him why she hadn't just told him what the Dark Lord had ordered her to do, why she did what she did and why the idea of opening up to him made her feel physically ill.

"Get. Out."

"Ebony-"

"Get out!" She made to push him, to hit him, anything but he caught her wrists. She struggled against him. "Get out, get out, GET OUT!"

"I'm not going anywhere until you fucking talk to me like a decent human being."

"If you don't let go of me I will scream bloody murder."

"Go ahead, it wouldn't be the first time you made that particular empty threat."

Ebony sighed, and let her hands fall. "What do you want from me Malfoy?"

"I want, Dementia, for you to trust me. We can't have these screaming matches for the rest of our lives, and you can't keep everything bottled in all of the fucking time. So talk to me, and maybe one day before our wedding day, I'll get to know you, all of you."

He pulled her close, and she could feel the hammering of his heart, and how he slowly but surely relaxed his body, both their anger ebbing away. "You're really serious about this whole marriage thing?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"You were engaged to Parkinson once..."

"You are not Parkinson or Greengrass, you are my Ebony, and as long as you are by my side, pissing me off and being a general pain in the backside, everything is fine. I love you Ebony, never, ever doubt about that."

"I love you too."

* * *

New Year's Eve provided a great opportunity to publicly announce their love.

Draco, decked in his finest dress robes, especially ordered from Milan for the occasion, in the latest cut that was all the rage on the Continent with fine gold detailing on the opulent green silk, looked every bit smitten by the ebony beauty by his side, dark hair curled in large waves that tumbled down her open back fitted dress robes, made from silver pixie spun silk, that shimmered with her every movement, and gave her milky skin an ethereal appearance. Ebony felt like she was in another world.

It wasn't her first formal gathering; she was no stranger to showing up to these and standing at the edge, occasionally making an effort to socialise so her grandmother didn't kill her when they got home, usually nursing a goblet of elf wine she had managed to swipe – eventually she would end up outside on the balcony, in all kinds of weather where Draco, or sometimes Theo, would find her and they would talk until it was an unacceptable time to go. However, this time everything was different. This time, _she_ was the centre of all the attention. It might have been the annual New Year's Ball, hosted at an Unplottable Malfoy mansion, but hers and Draco's name was that on everyone's lips.

Though right handed, she found herself holding her goblet in her left hand so the entire room could clearly see the ring now decorating her ring finger; a sizeable diamond that caught the light beautifully with her every gesture, set in white gold with intertwining fine serpentine detailing of goblin silver, made out by those who asked to see the ring personally and Ebony was only happy to oblige. But her favourite part was what no one else could see, his engraved promise on the inside that was hers and hers alone.

Ebony was introducing Draco to her Transylvanian cousins, when there was the telltale clink of metal against glass heralding the beginning of a speech. In Lucius' absence, it was Snape who had begrudgingly taken up the appropriate role. He looked nothing like he did at Hogwarts, his usual loose hair tied at the nape, looking a lot less "silky" than it did on a day-to-day basis, and it was testament to Narcissa's negotiation ability that the man stood next to her had donned a colour other than black. Most of those who cared about such things however, had yet to agree on whether it was a very dark blue, a very dark grey or a purposely faded black.

"I would like to propose a toast," he said, raising his goblet to the room. "One of many this evening, I am sure. Firstly, a toast to another year which we have lived to celebrate its end amongst friends and family, acquaintances both new and old, and mark the beginning of a new year. Secondly, a toast to my godson Draco Malfoy and his girlfriend Ebony Dementia, whom I am pleased to announce have recently become engaged. Congratulations."

Ebony blushed at the polite applause, and the way in which, before a room full of people, Draco pulled her close and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. Those who had been unaware, or had been pretending to be so, moved towards the young, somewhat unexpected, couple to offer their congratulations and get a better look at the ring before, as was customary, moving away to gossip, and not always out of hearing range. Ebony smiled politely through it all, encouraged by the constant protective hand that Draco placed on her back, never far away and ready to put back into place anyone who overstepped the mark.

"I suppose I should congratulate you on successfully brewing a Love Potion strong enough to dupe Draco into believing he actually wants to marry the likes of you Dementia," were the kind words that Pansy had to offer as they made their way through to the dining room for the meal that lined the stomachs ready for the night that was always celebrated in style. "That ring on your finger is supposed to be _mine_."

"Pansy dear, I thought I made it quite clear to kindly stay the fuck away if you had nothing nice to say to my _fiancée_," Draco hissed, fearing the ruin of what had so far been a good night. Ebony was smiling and it was her smile, and not the two thousand Galleon dress robes that made her look absolutely exquisite. "You are going to have to deal with it, sooner or later."

"I have to deal with nothing. I have known you my entire life Draco, and I know you better than you know yourself. You will never make it to the wedding. You bore easily, and whatever amazing trick Dementia is able to do with her tongue, you will find someone who can do it better."

"And then what Parkinson?" Ebony asked. "You really think he'll come back to _you_? Give him some credit please. He has a little more taste than _used goods_."

"Come now ladies," Snape said in his usual low, voice, always a possessor of an uncanny ability to pass by at the most opportune moments. "Retract the claws and enjoy the evening. You have an entire term at your disposal to tear each other apart."

As Pansy flounced off, Draco nuzzled Ebony's neck, this PDA the only assurance he felt he could give. "Don't listen to her. I'll never get bored of you, especially not of that marvellous thing that you do with your tongue you-know-where..."

Ebony blushed profusely, which did not go unnoticed by her roommate. "You two make me bloody sick. All loved up and all happy and nice to look at – if my mother asks me one more time when I'm going to meet a nice boy who doesn't mind being eaten out of house and home, I swear I am going to double the amount you two already owe me for the matchmaking."

Ebony raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware of any such deal. You already seem to have permanently borrowed half my music collection and as I recall, you made Draco have his cousin ship in freshly made French pastries from Paris because we 'owed' you. I think we're pretty much even now."

"And I'm pretty sure talking some sense into Ebony, however arduous a task that may be, doesn't come under the lists of things classed as wizarding debts," Draco concurred. "It would have happened sooner or later. We just like you enough to humour you."

Millicent snorted. "How generous of you Malfoy, for you to look down on us lowly people with such love and compassion."

"I'll tell you what Millie," Ebony said, coming to a sudden realisation. "It's my understanding that you've not had the good fortune to meet my dear cousin Vlad, Vladimir Pyetr Iliac Karamazov to be accurate. He graduated from Durmstrang last year with Honours and Distinguished Furs and he's on the fast-track to become someone of note amongst the Numengard Officials..."

"I'm interested, tell me more."

"He was only _just_ telling Draco and I how lonely he is finding coming home to his castle, and to be greeted only by the help and the occasional visit from his mother, wasn't he darling?" Draco nodded compliantly, his mind already far away. Women. "I could introduce you if you like, he has a thing for British accents. Unless of course it bothers you that he's half-vampire..."

Draco rolled his eyes as Ebony excused herself to guide Millicent to introduce the wondrous Vladimir, who barely even spoke English, constantly turning to his sister for an answer. Oh well, if it was true that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach, Millicent would have no trouble ensnaring Vladimir, who seemed to look a little confused but flattered. And besides, the Bullstrodes were hardly small fish when it came to the Apothecary Industry...

"It is such a shame your father cannot be here," Snape commented, as they stood at the head of the main table, waiting for the bloody hags to stop gossiping so they could do the polite thing and pull out their chairs and stuff. "He would be proud. One way to cover up the stench of non-consensual depravity is to propose marriage."

Draco almost spat out his champagne, turning sharply to the older man. "I beg your pardon?"

"I think you've known me long enough to know I do not stutter Draco, and that I am merely making an observation."

"I think you've been doing this long enough to know that just because you occasionally get to play Pureblood and keep my mother company when she's taking pity on the less fortunate, doesn't give you permission to spout utter bullshit. You may be my godfather, but you and I both know that you are nothing but half-blood scum sucker who could do nothing better with his life than teach." Draco smirked at the smirk he had just wiped off of Snape's face. "But, you know me, I'm merely making an observation."

* * *

"You...you're so drunk," Ebony informed her reflection.

It had gotten to a stage where she could hold it no longer and had to power walk to the bathroom as regally as she could in high heels and dress robes with a hem that was under no circumstance to be trodden on without waiting to ask a fellow female to accompany her. When nature called, nature fucking called.

"Pot calling the kettle black dear," her reflection replied, staring at Ebony with the same intense blurry stare she was giving her. "I can only be as s'drunk as you are."

"_I'm_ not drunk. You're just pretending you're not but I can see you, standing there holding onto the sink, swaying a little bit, all side to side and you, yes youuuu, are clearly drunk."

"I'm not the one stood there telling my reflection I'm drunk."

Ebony pressed a finger against the reflection's lips, surprised that it was cold and flat to the touch. "Shhh, bad Mirrorbony confuse Ebony. Now tell me, honestly, and be really hundred percent honest. Does this dress make my boobs look smaller?"

"It makes your arse look bigger."

After great thought, Ebony decided that this was a compromise that she could live with – especially when she caught sight of the ring on her finger and a goofy, unladylike smile appeared on her features. "Loo-ok, I'm engaged. _Me_! Little strange pale Ebony is engaged to _Draco Malfoy_!" She did a little squeal of happiness.

"Don't worry, I can't believe it either."

Ebony frowned at the mirror. Mirrorbony needed to stop developing a personality. "I should go. My fiancé will worry otherwise." Ebony gave another happy little laugh. "I have a _fiancé_."

"When he stands next to you, so do I."

"Should I go get him?"

"No...because then he'll figure out you have had more than enough of the champers."

"You..." Ebony prodded the mirror. "You are _smart_."

"That's because _I'm_ not drunk."

Making a rude gesture that her reflection gladly returned, Ebony checked herself one last time, took several deep breaths, told herself to act the level of sobriety that she was, and stumbled out of the ladies room as gracefully as she could. Luckily someone was there to catch her.

"Watch it Raven. Some people might start thinking you're drunk, however preposterous the idea."

"Alan!" Ebony exclaimed a little too happily, pulling her favourite morning person into a hug. He had a nice aftershave on. Ebony liked nice aftershave. "I'm so glad I bumped into you. I haven't spoken to you all night – you didn't even come to say congratulations or something sarcastic about my engagement or anything." She gasped. "You haven't seen the ring!"

"Trust me, I had no problem seeing the ring from where I was sitting – if a blind man can't see it, it's not good enough for a Malfoy."

Ebony frowned. "You think it's ostenblameptious?"

"Ostentatious," Theo corrected.

"That's what I said, ostenkutchious."

"What I think...," he said, reaching out to tuck a dark curl that had fallen out of it's expensive clip back into place. "...doesn't matter. You know us Notts have no say on the business of Malfoys. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you." His hand lingered on her cheek, flushed from the alcohol, her eyes displaying her confusion. "You look beautiful tonight Raven."

"Thank you. I _feel_ beautiful." She broke away suddenly and did a twirl or two or three, grinning like a Cheshire Kneazle. "I finally feel like a princess, Alan - like in those fairytales, the ones with the happy endings where the prince and the princess live happily ever after. Me and Draco – this, this is the beginning of the happily ever after."

"You're really happy aren't you?"

Ebony nodded. "He loves me."

"So he says."

She took his face into her hands, so she could be sure of the sadness that crept into those jade orbs, another voice in the wave of disbelief that Draco was serious about this. "Et tu Brutus? Why you no happy for me?"

Theo placed his hands over hers, relishing this touch as he tried to find the right words to explain but all he could think of was how perfectly her dark lashes framed those steely blue eyes that waited patiently for him to speak when all he wanted to do was kiss her. Just once. "If things had been different, Raven..."

"What Theo? What would have changed?"

Her eyes were sharper, and he saw that she had realised the close proximity, that her mind was working in overdrive to figure out what this meant, the way he nuzzled the hands that did not move and the fact that her hands did not move. Why didn't they move? Why did she not call him Alan and laugh? Why were those rosy lips so tantalizing?

"I could have made you happy. I could have been the one to make you smile."

"You do make me happy, silly. You're the Alan to my Raven, the elbow to my Transfiguration and the companion to my breakfast. And you make me smile too – better yet, you make me laugh."

"It's not the same though, is it? You're going to become Mrs Draco Malfoy."

"What's brought this on Alan?" Ebony asked, not for the first time since she'd started dating Draco. It had been almost four months now and she had yet to get a straight answer from the sandy blonde, who had always been a friend to her, even if, when they seemed to get closer, he would retract into his shell, those pensive eyes disappearing behind yet another book. She frowned at his silence. "Unless...surely you'd have said something if- all this time... We've all been friends for years."

"Draco is not a _friend_," he said coldly, moving away. Why was he torturing himself? Why was he telling her? How much had he had to drink? He felt fine, except he didn't at all. "What kind of _friend_ stops another friend from being with the girl he loves because apparently she is much too below him? She is an orphan, her parents blood traitors, she is strange, I can do much better, he says. What kind of _friend_ then turns around and asks that very same girl to marry him? Draco Malfoy is no friend of mine."

"It's not – why, why would he do that?"

"Did you not think it strange that he's rooming by himself? Blaise barely tolerates him, and after he declared his intentions at the end of summer, I swear I could have killed him. No amount of drinking, no amount of meaningless sex could erase the betrayal, nothing will ever get rid of the twisting knife in my back every single time he flaunts you in front of me."

"What are you saying? That he's only with me to get back at you?"

"I am saying that that should be me out there being told how beautiful my fiancé looks tonight! It should be _me_!" Yup. He definitely should not have switched to Firebombs – the words were just tumbling out and Ebony just kept staring at him in disbelief. "I wouldn't have to buy the biggest rock in the shop to prove how special you are to me, no one, not one fucking person would doubt just how much I love you because I am not a backstabbing, jumped-up piece of conceited batshit!"

Ebony stared at him for what felt like forever, her mind racing and her heart beating against her chest. She felt faint. When she spoke her words were slow, deliberate, thought out. "Draco isn't perfect, I know that, but I love him flaws and all. And if you really, truly loved me, you'd have stabbed him right back and not listened to a word he said. All that proves to me is that he really has done everything in his power to make sure I'm...how do you put it – j_ust another jewel in the Malfoy Prize Collection_."

"Raven-"

"We never had this conversation." She walked over to him and kissed him softly on the cheek. "I'll see you at breakfast. We'll always have breakfast."

As she walked away, his eyes resting on her derriere, Theo fleetingly wondered if it would be acceptable to have Count Chocula with his mimosa come breakfast time.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Just one of those nice little in-between chapters.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 13.**

Life back at Hogwarts was blissful. Well, as blissful as Hogwarts ever got. So not blissful at all.

As Ebony had clearly forgotten over the course of the winter break, seventh year was also equivalent to NEWT hell, and Willow was not allowing her to do what she did best – pretend the problem doesn't exist until it maybe goes away. So far it was a tactic that had failed time and time again but Ebony was sure that one day it would pay off. And besides, what did she need NEWTs for now she was guaranteed never to have to work for anything, ever? Her wish was her command. And if that didn't work out, which would never happen, there was always the Marcus Flint option. Not that she thought that she'd be able to stomach yet another year of NEWT project deadlines, revision groups and surprise practise tests by the more sadistic teachers (Ebony was disappointed that McGonagall had stopped threatening to kick her out of the class).

Ebony had more interesting things to do with her time than go over her Runework. Instead, she had taken to sitting across from Willow and hiding bridal magazines in the books. The wedding was at least a year away, but _still_. It also allowed her to ignore that if she didn't kill Harry Potter some time soon, there would be no wedding because there would be no bridegroom.

"I have a surprise for you," Draco whispered into her ear, earning himself a glare from Ebony's supposed study partners. Everyone knew exactly what Willow thought of the engagement despite her smiles and words of encouragement and despite Ebony asking maybe, once or twice for him to kindly cease and desist, Draco still took great delight in referring to Hermione as the Mudblood.

"And what, may I ask, is the occasion?"

"Do I need to have a reason to treat my princess?"

"Hmm, I suppose you don't."

A loud tutting interrupted their kiss, and Draco turned a withering look to its usual irritating source. Hermione looked unrepenting. "We all get that you two are loved up and happy and it is all very lovely, but some of us can't buy our way through life and would appreciate not having to put up with you two snogging everywhere we turn."

"Surely you'd be used to it Mudblood, considering The Great Exchange of Saliva between Weasel and Brown that traumatised us for the most part of last year," Draco countered. "Or perhaps that's why it bothers you so much."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

With an amused smirk, Draco turned to back to Ebony, holding out his hand for hers. "Let's go and leave Granger to contemplate the pros and cons of taking only her textbooks as her lovers."

Draco did not care if he antagonised Ebony's friends, and did not care that he publicly showed his adoration for the girl whose hand was in his as they made their way back to the Slytherin House, occasionally stealing a kiss even though she would be all his in a matter of minutes. He loved to see the look on Nott's face when he tied a silk scarf across her eyes at the bottom of the stairs, leaving a long lingering kiss that she did not hesitate to return. The best man had won; the best man who could hear her gasp of surprise when the blindfold fell, who could be the reason for that smile and a look of delight on her face.

"I thought it was about time you moved in properly," Draco said, watching her explore the refurnished room from the new bed to the new carpet to the larger wardrobe; this plush king size bed was a lighter wood, giving the room a warmer feel than previous, that and the new white carpet that he had had put in, that felt like heaven on bare feet. "Do you like it?"

"I love it."

How could she not when he had gone to so much effort for her? She had been quite content with her one assigned drawer, navigating back to her official room when she was low on clothes and taking the opportunity for a quick chat with Millicent, conversation these days centred on the latter's blooming relationship with Cousin Vlad. Now, as well as her trunk laying next to Draco's at the foot of the bed, she had her own section of a wardrobe which Draco had filled for her with a mix of new school robes and casual robes, as well as shelves full of clothes that showed just how well he knew her. The desk had been expanded so that two people could comfortably sit side-by-side and study.

"Is this for me?" Ebony asked as she picked up a beautiful tan leather journal on the table, running her hands over its smooth surface. Draco made an affirmative noise to her silly question for in the right hand bottom corner was her name, embossed in fine black lettering. On the first page of the parchment paper was a note in Draco's beautiful slanting handwriting.

_My dearest Ebony,_

_You are the Darkness, that leads my Way,  
the Blind leading the Blind but Always  
Together and Never Apart,  
at least not by Heart. _

_Your lips may be sealed, but the words dance behind your eyes, waiting to be shared.  
Let these pages that I offer you with love be the confidante that I cannot yet be._

_Forever yours, Draco_.

She was silent for a minute, reading those words until they were imprinted on her mind. Forever yours. Such strong words, words that he had not only said but wrote, a continual promise and reassurance because he knew her so well. She was the luckiest girl she knew – no, in the whole fucking world Ebony decided when she saw what was tucked into the blank pages of the journal. Tickets to see Celestina Warbeck. Sure she was no Weird Sisters but she was a classic, a trans-generational wizarding music sensation that only those with no taste could not appreciate.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Ebony said, adding a kiss with each thank you, noting that the new bed was a lot bouncier, squishier than the old one. "You are _the_ best boyfriend ever."

"Fiancé," Draco corrected with a grin, giving her thighs, now either side of his body, a cheeky squeeze. "And you've yet to see the bathroom, though you might not notice a difference seeing as you'd already flooded the place with your toiletries and make up."

She leaned forward and kissed him, this one deeper, more sensual, so that she too had a grin on her face when she leant back, caressing a face that looked so serene against the thousands of pillows propping him up. She had always said how she liked having more pillows than she actually slept on. "You spoil me."

"Because I can and I want to. You don't take anything I do for granted or as a given. I could stop showering you with gifts and I know that you wouldn't even notice. You're not like all the other girls."

"I'm lucky you have a thing for awkward, pale, poor excuses for Pureblood witches with little that should attract a handsome wizard such as yourself. Because if it wasn't for that particular fetish, I'd imagine it would be Greengrass right now enjoying her third surprise of the week and trying to think of exactly how she might thank you."

"Greengrass would write me a polite note most likely. Or thank me whilst making it clear she hates the carpet and asking if they do returns on the robes. She was a picky one that one. But _you_, the first thing you do is jump on me, shower me with compliments, and make it very hard for me to leave you for Quidditch practise."

"Missing one practise won't hurt..." Ebony said, running her hands across his chest, having absentmindedly been unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke.

"As Team Captain, it probably will. As much as I would love to stay and test out our new bed immediately..." Draco said, forcing himself to sit up and resulting temptation with difficulty. Her mouth had found his sensitive spot and her hips were doing his best to bring his arousal to a point of no return. "...I have no desire to lose to Hufflepuff. And I know you hate me when I lose."

With a dramatic sigh, Ebony rolled over. "I suppose you're right. And besides, all the new stuff really does make up for the fact that you love Quidditch more than me. You know...I think you'd have a really hard time deciding if someone offered you the Quidditch Cup in exchange for you ending our relationship. In fact, I think you might even choose Quidditch."

"Ebony..."

The warning edge in his voice told her not to take her sarcastic truths too far. Not when they'd managed so long without argument. "I'm _joking_. I'm quite satisfied with my cake and don't need to eat it too. I'll leave that to Millie."

Ebony watched him as he got ready, mentally noting where he kept his things, smiling when he got frustrated at the new places that he was not yet used to. Professor Snape and his mother had effected the renovation based on his very specific wishes, he told her as he pulled on thick socks, the weather still bloody freezing and snow still covering the grounds.

"I'll be back before you know it," Draco said as he grabbed his broom and practise bag, double checking if he had all his plans and everything. "And then I am all yours. In the meantime, you should really check out the bathroom."

With a final kiss, he was out of the room, and Ebony was alone. He lied; he would not be all hers because they had a Defence Against the Dark Arts essay due tomorrow and he had yet to cross it off the To Do list he had pinned to the corkboard. That said, nor had she. But Lupin liked her, or at least pitied her, and she figured if she found him sometime before the afternoon class, spouted some rubbish about having a really hard time concentrating, he'd just give her an extension.

Bouncing off the bed, she crossed the room to the bathroom, but what she saw when she pushed open the double doors was not what she had expected. In her mind, all he'd done was maybe give her a cupboard for her toiletries but he'd gone the whole way. The entire bathroom had been enlarged; where there had been one sink now stood two facing a large mirror flanked by two decent sized cabinets. The shower remained unchanged but had been joined by a bath tub which was filled with luscious smelling bath bubbles and on the edge of bottle of elf wine and a glass.

Well that helped her sort her evening. She'd take a lovely bath, and using a Quickquote Quill she'd write up the relevant notes to the essay from her bubbly comforts so that even if she didn't write the essay, Draco wouldn't have to waste his time looking through the textbook.

She smiled as noticed that he had left a sticky note on the wine.

'_Enjoy responsibly. Or not_.'

* * *

The concert fell on a Hogsmeade Weekend, and as Miss Warbeck did not like the uncertainty of the night, her concerts started at midday and finished in the early evening, giving herself time to be within the confines of her heavily warded and guarded townhouse by nightfall, and the last of the students to be safely watched over by the Aurors always milling around Hogsmeade, some in their uniform and others failing at their attempts to look like civilians, as they trudged back up to the castle.

Technically Ebony and Draco had permission to be in Hogsmeade on that day because they had signed permission slips stating this. But in reality, a ban had been placed upon this permission, something that Snape took great joy in reminding them on the last Potions lesson before the Saturday.

"It would be in both your interests to rid yourself of Gryffindor impulses and remain within the confines of the castle. If so much as a hair steps outside of this castle without permission, I can assure you that I will be the _least_ of your worries."

Draco assuaged Ebony's fears by telling her that he had it sorted, Snape was a dick anyway and besides putting in them in detention for x amount of time, what the hell could he possibly do? She just needed to trust him. It sucked that she could not speak to Willow about this though who was very odd about everything Malfoy related, especially since the announcement of the engagement. As easy as it was for Draco to say 'forget her' doing so wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world. She was her best friend.

Excitement on the day cancelled out the negatives and the butterflies in her stomach turned to excitement – this was the first time she was seeing Celestina Warbeck, and as usual, Draco was spoiling her rotten. She turned in the mirror and smiled, double-checking if her make up was alright (after much agonising and not much help from Millie, she had decided that red lipstick trumped all) and smoothing down her faded grey Weird Sisters maxi dress, loving the splashed paint motif and the general rock feel to it – another gift from her darling Draco. It was a shame that it had to be hidden behind the winter layers but she had no desire to freeze to death. Though she supposed that Draco had never once declined her his coat.

Even as he got dressed, Draco refused to tell her how they were going to get to the concert, not with McGonagall helping Filch to supervise the checking of all those who left the castle, and apparently Aurors were watching the Forbidden Forest. Clearly he'd just wanted to see her confused face when they met up with Neville and Luna, the last people she had ever expected. Every time she saw the clumsy Gryffindor she swore that he got taller, now almost a good head taller than Draco, and Luna adorned herself with more and more strangeness.

"All right?" Draco greeted, shaking Neville's hand. "Everything all sorted?"

"Only just," Neville replied. He turned to Ebony and nodded politely before returning to Draco. "And remember I can get you out but I'm not so sure about sneaking you back in."

"Don't worry," Luna said suddenly as they followed the boys through the corridors, avoiding the known way out to avoid being caught by patrolling teachers. "I didn't know that they were friends either. Boys can be strange, can't they?"

"Quite," Ebony replied, watching Draco's back with suspicion. What deal had he struck to get the Gryffindor boy to help? Oh well, it didn't matter. "I like your earring by the way."

The younger girl beamed, fingering the solitary unicorn hanging from her hear. "Thank you. Neville made it for me. Gifts are always so much nicer when they are made don't you think?"

By the time they emerged at the end of the dark tunnel, Ebony had permanently changed her mind about the petite blonde with the dazed blue eyes and the strange mannerisms. Throughout their journey to Hogsmeade she spoke of everything and nothing, holding her hand when Ebony seemed uncertain about her footing and not letting go until they had emerged into the warm of the room that marked the end of their journey. She heard Neville and Draco thank the portrait that allowed them access but was more concerned with the occupant of the room.

"Is that-is that a goat?" Ebony whispered, staring at the creature scrutinizing them, its mouth chewing something unknown. It looked like a goat, but most goats she had seen did not have straw hats upon their head and did not don blue silk blouses.

"That's Mrs Dumbledore," Luna corrected, walking over to the goat. "Hello Mrs Dumbledore. You're looking very pretty today." The goat baaed in response, extending a leg for Luna to shake. "These are our friends, Draco Malfoy and Ebony Dementia." She bent down and whispered loudly. "They're going to get married you know."

"Baa."

"Thank you for allowing us through Mrs Dumbledore," Draco said, bowing politely before the goat. Ebony tried not to ask him what the fuck he was doing. She was missing something very crucial here. He reached into his pocket and with a tap of his wand expanded a large basket with what she could see were filled with wine, whiskey, cheese and newspaper. "Please accept this as a mark of gratitude to you and your husband from myself and Ebony."

"Baa."

At a look from Draco, Ebony smiled and gave a small, confused, curtsey. "Yes, thank you Mrs Dumbledore. Most grateful."

"Baa."

Luna smiled. "She says you shouldn't look so scared. She doesn't bite."

"We'll see you at dinner Mrs Dumbledore," Neville said, beginning to usher them out. "Luna and I have been looking forward to your pie all week."

Ebony had to literally hold her tongue until they had emerged outside, the midday sun bright on their eyes.

"Will someone _please_ explain what just happened?"

With the boys in conversation once again, this task fell to Luna, who seemed to have a greater understanding of what had just happened anyway. "You met Mrs. Dumbledore, Aberforth Dumbledore's wife."

"Am I the _only_ one who noticed she's a goat?"

"Sometimes," Luna said pensively, twirling her unicorn earring around her finger as pale blue eyes gazed into some unknown distance, "you can't help who you fall in love with."


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Okay, enough deviating. Maybe. HA. FILLER. FILLER. I LIKE TO PUT FILLERS IN MY SANDWICHES. The songs are mine. No Good Charlotte or MCR lurks here._

* * *

**Chapter 14.**

The concert venue was a newly opened bar opposite Madam Puddifoot's; a mixture of sleek metals and leathers that made unattractive noises if you slid the wrong way. The line outside was considerable, ranging from eager third years to middle aged men pretending to look like they were just there to accompany their wives who had queued up for hours to get these tickets. It was the first time in a long time Selena Warbeck had played in Hogsmeade. As was his manner, Draco moved to the front of the queue and greeted the security guard, a burly troll like wizard that had Ebony wondering if Flint had been kicked off his Quidditch Team, so that they were soon inside, and being greeted by the owner.

"Draco! Darling, Oh look at _you_," she greeted, placing exaggerated kisses on both his cheeks, not even careful to avoid leaving behind remnants of her electric blue lipstick. "All grown up and more handsome every day. I am so glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," Draco replied. "Lucinda, this is my fiancée Ebony Dementia. Ebony, I'd like to introduce you to Lucinda Warrington; she was like a big sister to me. Until I grew taller than her that is."

Ebony greeted the other girl as politely as she could muster, conscious that Lucinda had yet to remove her talons from Draco's arm, and if her rather generous bosom was pushed up any higher it would be suffocating her irritatingly beautiful face. She was an English rose, milky skin and delicate features with tumbling dark brown locks, a beauty that not even the odd make up could detract from, but her personality did that for her.

"She's pretty but, you know, I always thought you'd go for prettier. But I'm sure you have the wonderful personality Emily," Lucinda smiled before turning to Neville and Luna hovering behind them. "And Draco! Whatever did you replace Crabbe and Goyle with?"

It took all of Ebony's strength not to gouge those pretty blue eyes out of her face; she didn't know how Draco did it, putting up with people as irritating as Lucinda just to have a booth directly overlooking the stage and an offer of however many drinks he wanted, on the house. Though she supposed it didn't hurt that Lucinda had boobs – they looked like bloody balloons to her – and the way Draco allowed her to hug him and touch him, his gaze never staying long above the neck, Ebony was certain he thought it was a fair exchange.

"You two seemed very cosy," Ebony finally commented when Neville and Luna had left them to go find more familiar faces that they had promised to meet.

The venue was filling out; the floor which they were on, a balcony looking out onto the stage not as much as the floor below where noise drifted upwards and above the generic jazz music being played as they waited. Though they had agreed not to get shitfaced, they were on their third cocktail and the opening act had yet to play. If worst came to worst they'd stay at the Three Broomsticks and face the music tomorrow. They were of Age, due to graduate in a few months – kicking them out over something so small would be stupid.

"Who? Lucinda and I?"

"No, you and the Queen Mother. Who else?" She stuck out her chest and did an imitation of their host. "Oh _Draco darling_! I do love that dress Emily, it's such a shame I can't wear dresses like that because I had my chest blown up far too big and can only wear clothes that allow me to shove my boobs into your fiancés face!"

"I think someone might be a little jealous."

"Not without reason."

"She's five years my senior," Draco reassured, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a tin. "And single. Not without reason." He took out a purple cigarette from the tin, leaning back as he took the first drags. "Trust me, should I ever replace you, it won't be with her."

"Oh that's reassuring."

"Just relax will you." He held out the cigarette for her. "Here."

"What is it?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just trust me."

* * *

_I took a cigarette end  
And started to smoke pot  
I didn't know what it was  
But the guy who gave it to me was hot  
I didn't know his name but I had to have him  
I nicknamed him Vampire though his real name was -  
Martin? Marvin? Harry? TIM!_

Ebony didn't know if it was the haze of the smoke that surrounded them, Draco contenting with puffing large smoke rings and then laughing at her own dismal attempts, but she quite liked the opening act. The Mariesuettes were easy on the ear and easier on the eye: four witches, barely older than she was, and hundred times prettier than Ebony ever hoped to be. The leader singer had black ringlets that framed a porcelain freckled face, a strong nose that might have seemed odd on anyone else but added to her beauty, balanced out by full pouty lips. The guitarist had golden hair that tumbled to the small of her waist, tips seemingly dipped in a paint pot of hot pink, her purple eyes often closed as she played the witching solos that conveyed a store of emotions. The drummer had short spiked blue hair, and stuck her tongue out in concentration, pointed ears covered in piercings betraying elf origins. Finally there was the bass player, with alluring caramel skin framed by a lion's mane, and green eyes that scanned the crowd unflinchingly.

"Let's go dance," Ebony said as the girls struck up another catchy song. Contrary to Draco's continually mellowing mood, she felt ready to conquer the world. She'd progressively shed her winter layers until she was down to just her maxi dress and jangled with every move of her bangles. The neon ribbons that had once decorated their table now woven into her hair added to her look. "I'm feeling a dance."

"How do you expect to be caressed by the gentle beats of the music if you are busy thrashing against them?"

"Shall I take that as a no?"

"Take it as whatever you wish to take it."

Ebony placed a lingering kiss on his lips, smiling at the widening of his dilated eyes. "I shall take it as permission to go and dance by myself for a little while."

"Dance like the queen that you are."

Ebony floated down to the floor below; there was The Floor, which was a space cleared before the stage where Mariesuettes fans, both new and old were jumping, swaying and moving to the music, members of all sex trying to catch their eye because face it – they were irresistible, and as Ebony heard someone say 'the female equivalent of Goblin Charlatans', and then there was The Around, areas around The Floor which held an assortment of chairs and tables, some booked, others first come first served and don't move away. Unlike the Top Floor, with its servers, the bar here was crowded.

Before she could begin swaying to the Mariesuettes _'Self-Insertation Proclamation_', the first chords promising a stream of punk, Ebony spotted a familiar face.

"Willow?"

The girl turned around, confirming that it was indeed the Ravenclaw who was stood by the wall, gently nodding her head to the music, her hair moving in time. It had been a long time since Ebony had seen Willow out of her usual bun and robes study combo – her chestnut waves were held in place by a silver hair band worn around her crown, matching the silver birds on her black dress that flittered around in time to the music.

"Ebony!"

The two hugged. They hadn't done that in awhile either.

"OMM, what are you doing here?" Ebony asked.

"You're not the only one allowed to go to concerts are you?"

"But you never said!"

"Hey Willow, they've run out of Pumpkin-oh, hallo Dementia."

Ebony turned to the familiar voice that came up behind them balancing to sloshing tankards of whatever the hell they were selling here. The Gryffindor red-head looked out of place without Potter and Granger by his side, even though his worn out blue jeans and his hideous patterned jumper seemed quite in keeping with the crowd.

"Weasley? What are you doing here?"

Willow replied before he even had the chance to open his mouth.

"He's with me."

If Ebony had been drinking, she would have just spat the content out on her best friend. "Wait- what? _Weasley_? When were you going to tell me?"

"Well, I was planning on having you be the last one to know, seeing as that's how it seems to work with you."

Ah. So Willow was still angry about not being invited to the New Year Ball and their unofficial engagement party? She had seemed cool when Ebony had explained coming from a neutral family, she as an Arcane was naturally excluded from.

"I said I was sorry Will! And you were the first to know - I Owled you straight away."

"So I wasn't even worthy of a quick Floo."

"It's complicated - you know that. And you know how sorry I am. You don't have to tolerate Carrot-Top over here just to prove a point to me."

"I actually happen to enjoy Ronald's company."

Ebony rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. He's as thick as a brick and you could do better."

"Hey!"

"My point exactly."

"What, just like Malfoy is a pompous dick, and though you might be hard pressed to find richer, you can definitely do better."

"Not this again. I thought you were happy for me."

"Not when he's taking you away from me! I have barely seen you -"

"I'm always in the library-"

"Planning your wedding."

"He likes me close."

"You mean within his control."

Ebony opened her mouth to retort, but decided that this argument was no longer worth her energy.

"Whatever Wills, you're killing my buzz."

Grabbing the tankard of whatever Ron was carrying, she walked away, pulling a face at the sweet acidic taste of it. If Willow was going to be a bitch, she could be too. Not feeling the climb of the stairs, she took the nearest seat, ignoring the strange looks she was given by the men occupying the nearby seats and watched the Mariesuettes play their final song, _'Lost the Plot'_

_Nothing makes any sense,  
The mistakes within this are so dense  
I clutch my head in pain and cry  
And through these tears ask God why  
If he exists he'd let this be  
This abomination, this story  
Clearly _

_He's lost the plot  
Like I've lost the plot  
If there was any plot to begin with  
Let's make it up as we go  
Pretend to know what we don't know  
And hope that nobody notices  
That we've lost the plot_

Though she'd come for Celestina, by the time the girls bid goodnight to enthusiastic applause and she had reached the bottom of her permanently borrowed tankard, Ebony was about ready to go back to the castle. The euphoric edge had worn off and been replaced by a heaviness behind her eyes and an acute awareness that she was surrounded by a sea of strange faces, even the familiar ones that passed by and said hello, the Hogwarts alumni that stopped to tell her that the NEWTs really were as bad as they made them out to be. She was grateful when she saw Draco making his way through the crowd.

"I thought you came down to dance?"

"I got tired," Ebony explained, letting Draco pull her up and close. She rested her head on his chest, her comfort blanket. "And just a little bit drunk. Maybe."

"The last time you said you were 'a little bit drunk', you turned around and puked all over Greg."

"He was reciting poetry to Vince, of course I was going to puke on him." She sighed. "I had a fight with Willow."

"About?"

"Her dating Weasley and not telling me. Me telling her he's not good enough for her. Her telling me you're a dick and a control freak."

"Arcane's just jealous. Don't let her ruin your evening, okay?" He kissed the top of her forehead. "Especially when she's dating the likes of Weasley. Clearly has no taste at all."

"I love you, you know that."

"I know."

And they stayed there, watching the stage prepared for the main act, swaying to the anonymous jazz music being played over the silent rumble of people talking. They watched fellow students traipse from table to table, booth to booth, occasionally making the occasional comment about who was wearing what, passing judgement on their different stages of sobriety. Finally Ms Warbeck appeared on stage to cheers and applause, accompanied by the luteist and pianist that made her music hers.

"This song is dedicated to the Hogwarts students, especially my fellow Ravenclaws, and those who took the effort to sneak out just to be here to see me. Good luck getting back in. This is '_Never Tickle A Sleeping Dragon_'"

As she opened her mouth to sing, there was a blast from behind.

There were screams from every corner, and it took awhile for anyone to understand what had happened, why there was suddenly dust everywhere. But as the rubble cleared, the men in the dark cloaks and the skull masks explained it all.

Death Eaters.


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N:** Does anyone actually read this story? Some sign of life would be like well appreciated. Even if this chapter is a little...My Immortal-y. _

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**Chapter 15.**

There was nothing quite as sobering as a Death Eater attack.

Draco had pulled Ebony out of harm's way of the first blast, shielding her with his body. But not everyone had been as lucky. Security guards carried an unconscious Ms Warbeck to safety, whilst everyone else tried to find a way out, pushing and shoving in their panicked haste to make their way down the set narrow stairs that led out into Hogsmeade, the fire exit blocked by a fallen part of the roof. When Draco became Minister for Magic, the first thing Ebony would do was make sure he installed a rule against anti-Apparition wards in public venues.

Death Eaters were trying to stop people from leaving safely, but luckily the security guards, supported by the mishmash crew of stupidly brave Hogwarts students were holding them off. But this window of safety would not be around for long. Though she tried to hold on with the force of a Sticking Charm, Ebony felt herself pulled away from Draco by the pushing and the shoving of the crowd, movement made inconsistent by the random spectators falling to their feet, having been hit by an unknown spell.

Before she had time to call out to him, still seeing the tops of his platinum blonde locks, another blast sent her flying into the bar behind her. _Fuck, that hurt_. She lay there for a moment, attempting to mentally assess if she was anything more than winded. _It doesn't matter_, her mind told her brain. _You're not allowed to be hurt until you and Draco are safe_. With a few coughs and painstaking effort, she got up from the floor.

"Draco! _Draco_!"

Her shouts were lost in the sea of screams and other shouts, of spells aimed at the intruders and of friends looking for others. She spotted Ron and Neville taking on a Death Eater, and in her frantic search, helping up anyone she could, she found Willow on the floor nearby, her dress covered in rubble, clutching her ankle.

"Willow, are you okay? You have to get out of here!"

"I can't. I think I've broken my ankle!"

"Here," Ebony said, tapping her friend's ankle and putting in a temporary splint. Weeks of being dragged to Quidditch practises had paid off after all. "You should be able to walk, if only a little while. You can't stay here." She put her arm around Willow's waist and helped her up, flinching at her own pain but reminding herself that she needed to find Draco. "Apparate as soon as you're outside. Even if it's a few metres away."

"What are you going to do?"

"I need to find Draco." Seeing Willow about to protest, she placed a sisterly kiss on the other girl's cheek. "I'll be fine. Luna! Luna! Here's she'll help you get out."

Without waiting to hear any further protests, Ebony was sprinting back up the stairs, where fewer people now were fighting to clamber down, just others like herself who had gone back to help those who had been left behind in the panic. The place was a mess, a battlefield of students and sparse security guards fighting against Death Eaters. There was no sign of Draco on The Floor. She climbed up back to the booths, her last hope. There the damage was worse, debris strewn across the previously sleek interior. Ducking behind a fallen beam, she watched as Draco cowered under a Death Eater whose gloved hands pulled him painfully upwards by his hair.

The voice that taunted him sounded familiar. "I think the exact words were 'scum sucking half-blood' were they not? And yet, here I am, under strict orders to dispose of you anyway that I like."

"You wouldn't. Father-"

"Your father is no longer relevant. Times have changed _Draco_."

Ebony Disillusioned herself and snuck around, coming closer and hoping that she would be undetected. However this was easier said than done, and a stubbed toe had a spell zooming her way, singeing an ear as it flew past. A few well-placed spells, and Ebony watched her wand fly out her hand and clatter a few feet away, now standing at the mercy of the Death Eater who had not even needed to let go of Draco to disarm her. He was nothing like the Death Eaters she had faced prior to this, and in her defence, when she had faced them she hadn't done so after an afternoon of relative reverie.

"Ah Miss Dementia to the rescue as always. Your ego must take such a hit Malfoy considering your fiancée seems to have more balls than you."

"You know what they say," Ebony smiled, her mind working into overdrive as she scrutinised her male nemesis. He was tall, but not strongly built – but then again, looks were always deceiving. "Hell hath no fury and all."

She began edging towards him with a confidence that she never possessed in usual circumstances. Ebony could see Draco's eyes on her, wondering what the hell she was planning with no wand against a Death Eater that he knew wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if he had orders that said he could.

"I would advise against whatever futile attempt at a credible plan you are about to execute," the Death Eater warned, wrapping his hand tighter, Draco wincing at the burning pain of being pulled up by his scalp. "It would be such a shame for more people than necessary to get hurt. Isn't that right, Draco?"

"Go fuck yourself," was Draco's strained reply. "Or better yet, that werewolf you love so much."

In the moment it took for the Death Eater to lash out at Draco, Ebony sprinted forward, enlarged the dagger she had worn as an earring and stuck it into – well, she had no precise aim. It was pure luck that she sank the silver into his right shoulder, taking a blow to the face in retaliation for the loss of his wand. No matter; thankful for the rips in her dress, she jumped onto the Death Eaters back and stopped herself from being thrown off by holding the dagger to his throat whilst Draco held pointed his wand up at him.

"What was that about futile attempt?" Ebony hissed. The man was indeed stronger than he looked, but so was she. The Sorting Hat had not placed her in Slytherin without reason. The man gave no response, and an attempt to throw her off was greeted by a pressing of a sharp edge, reminding him that she had the power to slice his throat. "Don't think I won't hesitate to kill you."

"Don't," Draco said, surprising both Ebony and the masked man. "Let's just get out of here."

To answer her own question, Ebony jumped down from the man's back, gracelessly pulling the mask with her and forcing him to contort his body painfully to avoid having his throat slit. "What the- _Snape_?"

Except this wasn't the Snape that she knew and thought she might get to like as her husband's godfather. There was something unusual about him, as if his eyes had gotten a little darker, his eyebrows a little higher, his nose a little sharper and his sneer more condescending and misplaced then ever. He attempted to twist out of her hold, taking advantage of her confusion, but she was confused, not stupid.

She pressed the dagger deeper, drawing blood. "Explain."

"I am merely following orders because _you_ are incapable of following even the simplest of tasks bestowed upon you by our Master."

"Simple task? Have you ever _tried_ getting near Potter with a murderous intent? Dumbledore smells it a mile away and swoops in with stories of Lemon Drops and socks. You tell _your _Master that I am done. I will not follow a man who sends a seventeen year old girl to do his dirty work."

Snape smirked. "Tell him yourself."

Ebony had never felt anything like it. Pain did not cover what she was in – it was akin to having a white hot poker trailed along every vein in her body. _Everything_ hurt and she was only barely aware that she was screaming, she was on the floor screaming, and there were people talking over her screams and _FUCK_! The pain was gone as suddenly as it came, but she could feel its aftershocks reverb through her body, and the sudden return to a reality without pain made her nauseous.

"_That_ was for your insolence." His voice was the same eeriness, sending further tingles down her spine. "I have yet to think of what I shall do for your disobedience. I must commend you however; your existence makes killing the Malfoy heir as easy as killing Potter."

"I am not a murderer," Ebony coughed.

"Funny that – as I recall, my Death Eater death count by your hand is currently at three. And a little to the right, and you would have made that four." Sitting up, painfully but surely, Ebony could see where Snape was sat on an overturned table wrapping ripped material around his neck.

"Potter has yet to do anything to me. When I am given reason, I will not hesitate. But you have sent me to do the impossible and are punishing me for something you yourself cannot do, _my Lord_."

Voldemort relished the exquisite scream that Ebony let out at the intense pain shooting through her body; it was always quite fascinating the contortions which a body could be pushed to make. There was no spell quite like the Cruciatus. "Surely your mother taught you some manners before her demise? Never turn an insolent tone towards your Lord."

Her throat was burning, and every muscle in agonising spasm. Her grandmother's voice floated to her mind, where thoughts were barely comprehensible even to herself: _How different is it from your filthy habit? All pain is the same, isn't it?_ No, it fucking wasn't. This was his anger, the Dark Lord, _her_ supposed Dark Lord – the reason she couldn't have Willow in her wedding party, why his followers never sunbathed and why her parents were _dead_. Lying there on the floor, her mind screaming at her that she was in pain like she hadn't noticed, it felt like she was thinking clearly for the first time. Why should she follow him? His Tweets weren't even that funny.

In the moment she looked him directly in the eyes, she was ready to meet her Maker.

"You're no Lord of mine."

He laughed. "As expected from the girl who once attempted to torture the Dark Lord. I can see you have a death wish that you are dying for me to grant." Ebony stared at the strangely shaped wand pointed between her eyes. She was going to die.

"Come now Tom, have you still not learnt to pick on people your own size?"

Or maybe not.

Ebony followed the source of the voice.

It was...Dumbledore!


End file.
